Protecting the Prophecy
by cckeimig
Summary: Summer after fifth year: Harry is afraid to sleep, lest Voldemort milk the prophecy from him, now that their link works both ways. He must learn Occlumency as quickly as possible, and while he learns, a special, underestimated friend helps out.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Home for the summer after his traumatic fifth year, Harry is afraid to sleep, lest Voldemort milk the prophecy from him, now that their link works both ways. He must learn Occlumency as quickly as possible, and while he learns, a special, underestimated friend helps out.

Disclaimer: Not mine, and I'm not out for profit, of course. It's all JKR's, except for the plot, which is mine. :-)

**Chapter 1: Sleepless Nights**

Harry Potter, hunched up on his bed, still fully dressed, jerked awake as the same memory started to pass through his exhausted brain.

"No!" he whispered savagely and climbed off the bed, scrubbing at the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. He sat down at the little desk in the corner and ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up more than ever. He grabbed parchment, quill, and ink from the top drawer, and began to write shakily in the light of the streetlamp outside and the full moon shining above it.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I've not slept a wink in three days for fear of what I keep starting to dream—what you showed me in your Pensieve after Sirius—well, after we got back to your office that night. I try to clear my mind like Professor Snape told me to, but as soon as I close my eyes, that figure starts to rise from your thoughts and say, "The one with the power to vanquish…" And I wake up with my scar burning. I think he's trying to pry into my memories, but how could he know? And if he's not, Professor, but I dream it and he happens to be 'tuned into' me at the moment…

I'm scared, Professor, because I'm not ready to face him yet, but if he manages to spy on this memory, what will ever stop him from just wiping me off the face of the planet or having someone else do it for him? I mean, if he learns the whole prophecy, not even the Order will be able to keep me safe.

What can I do?

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

He opened Hedwig's cage as quietly as he could and reached in for his pet. She hooted softly in an almost concerned way and climbed onto his outstretched hand. Harry tied the letter to her leg and caressed her beautiful plumage before whispering his instructions, "Take this to Mrs. Figg around the corner, okay? It's urgent."

Hedwig immediately launched herself out the open window and soared off into the night.

Harry took out a fresh piece of parchment to start another letter—this time to Ron Weasley. However, no sooner had he dipped his quill into his ink bottle but Hedwig came flying back through the window and perched on his shoulder, nipping his left ear affectionately. She stuck out her leg so Harry could untie Mrs. Figg's reply and then flew out the window once more, presumably for a night of hunting.

Harry opened the tiny scroll and laughed as he read the short note:

Harry,

Your owl was most insistent that I pass your letter on directly. It has been done. I do hope you're alright. Please come to tea with me this afternoon, and try and get some sleep before you do.

A. Figg

Harry scoffed at the last sentence and started working on his note to Ron. Over such a long distance, owl post was no longer safe, so he'd have to stick to mundane matters:

Dear Ron,

Two weeks into the holidays and I'm bored stiff. I kind of wish the O.W.L. results would come, just to give me something else to think about.

The Muggles haven't been too bad so far, probably thanks to the (in)famous Welcoming Committee at King's Cross Station.

I hope everyone at the Burrow is doing well. Write soon.

Harry

Ron would probably kill him for sending such a boring note—especially because it was almost identical to the ones he'd been sending out every three days to each member of what he liked to call the Welcoming Committee. He supposed he'd better come up with something better for the next round or people would start wondering if things weren't really okay, which was something only Dumbledore himself could be allowed to know at this point.

He sealed the note and sat staring at the moon's progress across the sky as he waited for Hedwig to return.

After Hedwig finished devouring a vole, Harry sent her off to the Burrow in the pre-dawn half-light, then watched as morning slowly arrived at Privet Drive.

When he heard his Aunt Petunia head down the stairs to start breakfast, he decided he'd been sitting in one place for long enough and went into the bathroom for a quick shower before going down to help her set the table.

When Harry reached the kitchen, his aunt took one look at his face and said, "Sit."

Harry sat.

"What's going on, Harry?" she asked, peering suspiciously at his bloodshot eyes.

"Nothing," Harry muttered.

"Don't 'nothing' me, boy!" she snapped. "You look like you haven't slept in days. What's happened?"

"You don't want to know, Aunt Petunia. Trust me on this one."

"Is it…is he…is it him?" she asked, fear in her eyes.

Harry nodded glumly.

Aunt Petunia sat down heavily in the chair Harry was facing. "Tell me."

"I-I'm working on a solution, Aunt Petunia. I wrote to Professor Dumbledore early this morning…" Harry faltered.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Okay," he corrected, "so it was really early this morning—like three-ish."

"Oh, Harry," she shook her head. "But what's happened? Why are you acting like a - a walking dead person?"

Harry just shook his head. How could he ever start to explain what he was going through? And since when did she care anyhow? He started picking at his grapefruit quarter to avoid replying.

"Harry, I'm waiting." It looked like she'd not be letting him off the hook quite so easily.

Harry sighed deeply. "My godfather is dead. Killed by a Death Eater—by his own cousin, in fact. And it's all my stupid fault! If I'd learned Occlumency like I was supposed to…if I'd opened that stupid mirror sooner…if-" he broke off, looking at his plate.

"Now that's enough, young man," she said. "Since when are you responsible for the actions of two adults who have probably hated one another their entire lives?"

Harry's head snapped up at that. "But how did…?"

"I've had another letter from that headmaster of yours explaining only that you might be in a delicate state after an unfortunate series of events that took place on the last day of your exams. So I've been reading your newspaper after you throw it away each day."

"You mean you've actually been reading the Daily Prophet! But…"

"Yes, I have, and I must say I had no idea just how famous you really were, Harry."

"Lot of good it does me," he muttered. "Keeps getting me into more and more trouble. I just wish it were all over with already so I could be at peace."

"What do you mean, 'at peace?'" she looked sharply at him.

"Just that, Aunt Petunia. I'm just so tired of it all. I didn't ask to be this Chosen One, and I don't want to be me anymore. I just wish I dared fall asleep so he could read the prophecy and have me put out of my misery already. But if I do, then that's the end of it all, isn't it? I mean, it's either him or me, right? But if I'm gone, he'll just take over completely and no one will ever be safe again…"

Aunt Petunia sat quietly looking at her hands. She finally looked up and opened her mouth to speak to him when Uncle Vernon and Dudley barged through the door and sat down to breakfast like any other day. Her mouth snapped shut again.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Figg invited me to tea with her today. Can I go?" Harry ventured quietly.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to say no, but Aunt Petunia beat him to the punch. "Of course you can. She's probably feeling quite lonely with only cats for company. You go visit her. Maybe that will help things a bit."

Harry looked closely at his aunt's face at that and she winked slightly at him before getting up to serve Uncle Vernon his coffee.

Harry's jaw dropped. Could Dumbledore have finally blown Mrs. Figg's cover to Aunt Petunia? It certainly looked that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, and I'm not out for profit, of course. It's all JKR's, except for the plot, which is mine. :-)

**Chapter 2: Tea with Mrs. Figg**

Later that day, Harry shuffled down the sidewalk, paying more attention to his feet than his surroundings. As a result he found himself in the middle of Dudley and his gang before he realised he was right in front of Mrs. Figg's house. He looked up at the evil grins on the faces of Dudley's goons and just shook his head at his own stupidity.

He turned to Dudley and raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "So, are you going to get it over with already or just let me by? I'm supposed to have tea with old Mrs. Figg today. Do you really think I need more punishment than that?"

Piers Polkiss snickered, "Ya know, Big D? I think he's got a point for once."

Dudley looked relieved and stepped aside to let his cousin pass. "Yeah, batty old Mrs. Figg and her crazy cats all afternoon is enough punishment for anyone! Better you than me, Harry!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and headed up the walk.

"Wotcher, Harry!" came a soft voice to his left. "Too bad. I was really looking for an excuse to get that cousin of yours. He's such a bully!"

"Hey, Tonks," Harry answered softly. "Nah, Big D hasn't really bugged me at all this summer. I think the Welcoming Committee took care of any ideas he might have had."

She giggled from under Moody's invisibility cloak as Harry shuffled up the rest of the walkway and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Figg must have been waiting there for his knock, because she opened the door before he had a chance to lower his hand. "Harry, dear! Come on in! You remember Mr. Tibbles, don't you?"

Dudley's gang sniggered at that and shambled off down the street before she decided to extend the invitation to them as well.

Harry waved half-heartedly at the old cat, "Hey, Mr. Tibbles," as he slouched through the door. When Mrs. Figg had closed it behind him, he immediately straightened and met her concerned gaze. "Have you heard from…" he began.

"From me, perhaps, Harry?" asked a deep voice he'd recognise anywhere.

Harry grinned for the first time in at least a month and rushed into Mrs. Figg's doily-covered cat-smelling living room. "Professor Dumbledore! It's nice to see you, sir!" He looked into that old face so full of concern for him and just couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to him or something, but he threw himself into Dumbledore's arms and broke down in tears.

Dumbledore just held him tightly and Harry felt a couple of tears that weren't his own falling onto his shoulder.

After several minutes Harry finally got himself back under control and pulled away. "I'm sorry, sir. I…"

"I think we both needed that, Harry. Don't be embarrassed about it. If I know you, that's probably almost the first crying you've allowed yourself to do over this whole unpleasant business."

"Almost," Harry nodded. "I did some at Hogwarts, really, but nothing like this. I'm sorry, sir…"

Professor Dumbledore looked sternly at him over those half-moon glasses. "Didn't I just tell you not to apologise?" But the twinkle was back in his eyes, so Harry just grinned at him and accepted the handkerchief Mrs. Figg was trying to give him. Harry nodded his thanks and mopped his face with it, suddenly extremely self-conscious in front of his batty old Squib of a neighbour.

Mrs. Figg seemed to sense his discomfort and bustled about preparing the tea. Harry moved to help her but was interrupted by his headmaster. "Please sit down, Harry. I need to speak with you about some special arrangements I've made on your behalf."

Harry sat in an armchair next to the ratty old recliner Dumbledore had selected for himself. "Arrangements, sir?" Harry asked eagerly, leaning forward in his chair, partly because he was anxious for a solution to this situation and partly because he was afraid he would relax too much in the presence of the only wizard Voldemort ever feared and drift off into the exhausted sleep that threatened to overtake him.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry's posture, an even brighter twinkle in his eyes which clearly told Harry that the brilliant old man saw right through him.

Harry grinned sheepishly at him, but kept his gaze on that venerable old face, his heart filling with love, hope, and trust as it had done on all but one all-too-recent occasion when he had spoken one-on-one with his headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "First off, Harry, thank you for trusting me enough after all that's happened to write directly to me about this."

"Who else could I possibly trust with this, Professor?" Harry shrugged.

"Yes, there is that, I suppose. Now, about the Occlumency training. I've brought you a book of suggested exercises that you should practice on your own while you're home with the Dursleys."

Harry half-snorted at the idea of Number 4 Privet Drive ever really being a home for him, but as he now fully understood why he had to call it his home, he left it at that.

Dumbledore just handed him the small volume and took a sip of the hot tea Mrs. Figg had set unobtrusively on the doily-covered occasional table at his elbow. Harry imitated him as soon as he realised the tea had been served.

"Apart from this, Harry, I will be tutoring you personally in Occlumency twice a week."

"But…" Harry started to interrupt with one of the myriad obstacles to that idea.

Dumbledore lifted a hand to stay off any comments. "I've already informed a trustworthy member of the Misuse of Magic Office of part of the special circumstances, so any disciplinary action will be headed off before it even gets started. You will travel by Floo Powder to the Great Hall at Hogwarts for special training in Occlumency and for Remedial Potions."

Harry choked on his tea. "Remedial Potions!" he gasped out between coughs. He didn't think he could face Professor Snape just yet.

Dumbledore chuckled. "The O.W.L. results are in, Harry, which means that all students should receive their results within the next day or two. But more importantly, you earned an E in Potions rather than the requisite O that Professor Snape requires. He, apparently, is as loathe to see you right now as you are to see him, after the incident with the Pensieve…" his voice trailed off for a moment and Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his armchair, dislodging a doily on the right armrest and diving to retrieve it before Mr. Tibbles and company could get any ideas.

"However," Dumbledore continued, a note of amusement in his voice, "Minerva McGonagall informs me she made you a certain promise and intends to make good on it even if that old—ahem, shall we just say, even if the former Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Temporary Headmistress is no longer in place at the school."

Harry brightened. "Potions with Professor McGonagall and Occlumency with you, sir?" He could hardly believe his luck.

"Yes, Harry. You will Floo from this house and arrive for Potions in the Great Hall at ten o'clock sharp on Mondays and Thursdays. You will work with Professor McGonagall for two hours, the three of us will lunch together at noon, and then you and I will work on Occlumency from one o'clock on. You should be back here shortly after three each class day. I don't dare start too soon after lunch until you've got your basic mental shields developed, or you might well bring it all right back up from the strain, and Madam Pomfrey would have my head on a platter."

Harry laughed. "She probably would. But, sir, are you sure about this? I mean after what you said in explanation of why you chose to have Professor Snape teach me…"

Dumbledore laughed a little bitterly. "I think it's a bit late for those kinds of concerns now, Harry. Voldemort has realised full well my feelings for you by now. And as the war against him has to be my highest priority, I might as well act out the part of surrogate grandfather I've always felt for you. Now, about those lessons." He raised bushy white eyebrows at Harry.

"Sounds fantastic, Professor! When do I start?" Harry felt warm all over to know that his feelings for Dumbledore were precisely and completely reciprocated.

"On Monday, Harry."

"But today's Friday, sir. How can I…" fear clenched his stomach into knots.

"I come armed with a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion that Poppy says you're to take at precisely eight o'clock this evening so you'll be up at a more or less reasonable hour tomorrow."

"Just one dose, sir? But what about tomorrow night? And Sunday…"

"You have the book to study from tomorrow so you can try some of the basic exercises before sleeping and you will have a special houseguest during the first week or so who is more than capable of setting up wards around your bed and your person as you sleep so that not even Voldemort, connected as you are by that scar of yours, will be able to penetrate your thoughts. I should have thought to send him to you before, but I was worried you'd come to depend upon him too much. That, and he'll run himself ragged if he does this for too long. And considering his devotion to you, I didn't think it quite fair to take such advantage of him."

"You don't…you don't mean Dobby, do you sir?"

"I most certainly do. While I was speaking with Professor McGonagall about researching more wards to help protect you as you learned to close your mind, Dobby was cleaning out my fireplace. When he realised who it was we were talking about, he quite timidly interrupted our conversation, saying, 'But Dobby knows how to set these wards! It is part of a house elf's special magic that can only be used if Master knows to ask for it. But Dobby is a free elf, so Dobby is free to offer his help to Harry Potter, if Professor Dumbledore will allow it.'"

Then came Dobby himself, entering cautiously from Mrs. Figg's kitchen and looking up hopefully at Harry.

"Dobby!" Harry cried joyfully. "Can you really help me with this?"

Dobby nodded.

"That's wonderful, Dobby! I would love it if you stayed with me for a while until I get the hang of this Occlumency stuff! It always seems to leave me more vulnerable rather than less so—the headaches and exhaustion are so hard to handle!" Harry enthused, secretly wondering how the Dursleys would take to having an uninvited houseguest from the Wizarding world—especially the one who had dropped the pudding on the floor, causing such a disastrous end to their evening with the Masons almost four years before.

Dobby happily threw himself forward to hug Harry's knees and beamed happily up at Professor Dumbledore, who smiled in return.

Professor Dumbledore rose from his recliner. "Thank you for the tea, Arabella. I really must be getting on to the Ministry. Cornelius wants to meet in person at least twice a week this summer to catch up on what he's ignored during the past year." He shook hands first with her, then with Dobby, who nearly fainted with the honour of it all, before turning to Harry. "Ten o'clock sharp on Monday morning, Harry. You know how Professor McGonagall is about punctuality." He squeezed Harry's shoulder in farewell, then Disapparated.

Harry thanked Mrs. Figg for the tea and for her help with this project.

"Oh, you're quite welcome, dear. I'm just glad I can help! Remember to have Dobby turn your cauldron and potions materials invisible for the walk over on Monday. Then you'll be leaving it all at Hogwarts I should imagine. Sleep well!" She smiled and shut the door behind her last two visitors.

Harry looked down at his little friend and grinned. "C'mon, Dobby! Let's go home and break the news to Aunt Petunia!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, and I'm not out for profit, of course. It's all JKR's, except for the plot, which is mine. :-)

**Chapter 3: Strange Developments**

Harry and Dobby walked down the steps and got halfway down the path to the sidewalk when Harry stopped cold. Dobby looked up at him questioningly.

"Uh, Dobby—er—can you make yourself invisible for the walk to the Dursleys? Er—I mean, most Muggles aren't used to seeing house elves and we're going to have to walk past quite a few of them along the way. You know, secrecy and all that…"

"Can't you just say he's a new pet of some sort?" asked a playful female voice from the bushes.

"A pet? Oh, c'mon, Tonks! I wouldn't insult Dobby like that! He's a friend. He's no one's pet." Harry couldn't believe his ears.

"Don't be offended, either of you. I was just joking, but I guess it was in poor taste, eh? Here, let me put a Disillusionment Charm on him like Moody did to you last year. I'll take it off outside your house," she offered cheerfully.

"Dobby is thanking Miss, but Dobby is able to do it for himself." He squinted his eyes in concentration and disappeared.

"Wow, Dobby!" said Harry. "That was fantastic!"

"Wotcher, Dobby! I never knew house elves could do that!" came Tonks' disembodied voice.

"Well, see you later, Tonks!" said Harry. "C'mon, Dobby!" Harry set off down the block, hoping his little friend was following close behind him.

As they neared the corner and saw Dudley's gang waiting for him, he spoke softly but sternly to the invisible figure beside him, "No matter what they do or say, Dobby, you must promise not to interfere or to reveal yourself. Promise me, Dobby."

"Very well, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby promises. But sir, if they…"

"No, Dobby! I mean it. I don't want you getting into any trouble because of me." Harry glared to his left. "Besides, they're just a bunch of dolts. And Dudley's scared enough of me to keep them more or less under control."

Harry approached the little group warily. He'd be damned if he was going to let a few Muggle thugs get to him after having faced Death Eaters yet again and lived through it to tell the tale. Not to mention Voldemort himself. But it didn't follow that stupidity was in order either. Such confrontations were best avoided whenever possible. Especially now when he might have to call on Tonks to perform a few Memory Charms after what Dobby would almost certainly do in retaliation. Not to mention Tonks herself.

Harry sighed deeply as he approached Dudley's gang. "You guys missed out on a great tea."

The whole group burst into laughter. "Yeah, sure, Harry!" Dudley said. "I'm sure it was a barrel of laughs. How's dear old Mr. Tibbles, by the way?" His cronies burst into fresh shouts of laughter and Harry just grinned and shook his head as he walked right on past them toward Number Four. They let him go with no further comment, which made Harry wonder whether his Aunt Petunia might have spoken to Dudley about him. He shrugged and entered the house, being sure to take his own sweet time about shutting the door to give Dobby a chance to slip in behind him.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called.

"In the lounge, Harry!" she called back.

Harry stuck his head into the room. "Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I need to talk to you some more. Some things have happened that you need to know about," he began as he entered the room and sat down near her. At the look of alarm that suddenly crossed her horsy features, Harry mentally kicked himself. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put it that way—it's nothing bad, I swear! It's all good news, as far as I'm concerned, but I'm afraid there's a detail or two you may not quite like…"

"Well, what's happened? Out with it, boy! Your Uncle Vernon will be home soon."

Harry started and looked at the clock over the mantelpiece. He hadn't realised how long he'd stayed at Mrs. Figg's.

"Sorry," he said. "Well, anyway, when I got to Mrs. Figg's, Professor Dumbledore was there. He's made arrangements for me to get some extra training over the summer, lent me a book on Occlumency, and—now here's the hardest part, but, um, he's left a guest with me for the first week or so of my training to ward my sleep."

"A guest?" she asked, starting to look alarmed. "What kind of guest?"

"A house elf—the same one that came to see me just before second year. You know, the night of the dinner with the Masons?" Harry winced in expectation of the explosion.

None came. "The pudding? And the owl dropping the letter on Mrs. Mason's head?" she asked warily.

"Yes, that night."

"Where is he?"

"He's right here with me, but I asked him to turn himself invisible for the walk home and until I could speak with you about him. Dobby, show yourself, please."

There was a relieved sigh, and Dobby appeared standing at Harry's feet, rubbing his temples.

"Dobby!" Harry said in alarm. "Does it hurt you to be invisible?"

"Sir is kind to ask, but Dobby is perfectly well," the elf said weakly.

"Perfectly well my foot! It hurts you! Why didn't you tell me it would hurt you? I never would have asked you to do it!" Harry was concerned for his self-sacrificing little friend, who looked all too unsteady on his feet, and resolved to use his father's Invisibility Cloak to cover Dobby and his school things on the way to and from Hogwarts. Suddenly, he got an ominously heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Dobby," he asked, eyes narrowed. "These special wards you're to put up around my bed at night—do they affect you in the same way?"

"Not in the same way, no, sir," Dobby replied.

"Give me a straight answer, my friend. Is it going to hurt you to do this?"

Harry scowled at him and the elf cringed. "We'll see about that, Dobby," he said, resolving to study Occlumency as hard as he could after a good night's sleep.

He turned back to his aunt. "Aunt Petunia, this is my friend Dobby. He's saved my skin a few times, for which I'm truly grateful. I hope you don't mind his visit. I'll be studying hard so I can make it a short one and return him to Hogwarts as soon as possible." He looked sternly at Dobby during the last sentence, but the little elf was looking so pleased about the first part of Harry's introduction that it appeared the scolding hadn't even registered.

Aunt Petunia nodded at Dobby. "Although what your uncle will say I don't want to begin to imagine."

"Yes, well, I'll try to keep Dobby out of Uncle Vernon's way."

She just nodded again.

"And as for the training part, I'll be Flooing up to school on Mondays and Thursdays for special lessons," Harry continued. His aunt looked in alarm at the electric fire and her immaculate living room. "No, no, Aunt Petunia," he rushed to reassure her. "I'll be Flooing from Mrs. Figg's house each time."

Aunt Petunia breathed an audible sigh of relief, then sat up straight in alarm as a car pulled into the driveway. She and Harry looked at each other, eyes wide.

"Dobby, upstairs to my room, quickly!" but Dobby was unconscious on the floor and couldn't respond. Harry scooped him up and ran for the stairs just as he heard his uncle set the car alarm.

"Petunia, I'm home!" he boomed as he opened the door, then stopped dead as he saw Harry frozen halfway up the stairs with an unconscious house elf in his arms.

Uncle Vernon's face went purple. He stomped into the hallway and slammed the door so hard the side windows rattled. "Boy!" he raged. "What is that…"

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia called sharply. "Please come in here for a minute. Harry, take Dobby upstairs and come right back down. There are some things your uncle needs to hear. Dudley!" she called out of the window. "Please come in for a minute, dear!"

Harry ran up to his room and laid Dobby gently on his bed, propping him up on the pillow. He took out his wand and pointed it at his friend. "Ennervate!" he said.

Dobby's eyelids fluttered open. He opened his mouth to speak, but Harry hushed him. "Stay here and rest quietly, Dobby. That's an order. I mean it." He grabbed a chocolate frog from his desk drawer and handed it to Dobby. "Eat this and rest. I'll be back up soon." He whirled around and left the room, making sure to close the door as gently as possible so as to avoid making Dobby think Harry was angry at him. Then he practically flew down the stairs to the lounge.

Aunt Petunia nodded at him and pointed to an armchair. Harry sat. Uncle Vernon, whose face had changed colour to more of an angry red in the interim, started to go purple again. He opened his mouth to speak, but Aunt Petunia held up a hand to quiet him. Harry stared.

"Now," she began, "as we are all aware, this Voldemort person has been back for a year now and, as we were so painfully made aware almost as long ago, the Dementors are no longer under Ministry control. Is this correct, Harry?"

"Well, actually, the Dementors were sicced on me last summer in an attempt to silence me. But they didn't abandon Azkaban until only a short time ago," he replied.

"What! Those Demensis things are all on the loose out there!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Vernon, the neighbours," she snapped.

"Yes, sir, they are," Harry said.

Dudley turned a bit green and began to shake.

"Now, however, the real problem is Voldemort himself. I've had an owl from Professor Dumbledore about this situation, although he was quite vague about the particulars…"

"What?" Uncle Vernon spluttered. "You've had another owl from that old…" but he stopped short at the look on Harry's face. Or perhaps it was because Harry had unconsciously drawn his wand at the hint of an insult to Dumbledore.

"Yes," Aunt Petunia said. "He said that some very distressing events had occurred and that I was to contact him through Mrs. Figg if I thought Harry needed help."

"So that's how you knew…" Harry began, half smiling.

"Yes, Harry, and if you hadn't asked to go see her today, I was going to go myself. If you really think I haven't noticed you've not slept a wink in days…" she paused. "Of course you really think that. But I've never really wished you harm. That's why we took you in in ACR1the first place."

Harry just looked at her, his mouth half open, scarcely daring to believe a word he was hearing.

"Now, before we discuss anything else, is Dobby alright?" she asked, real concern in her eyes.

"I think so, Aunt Petunia. I was able to revive him, but I told him to stay put and rest. I think this assignment is going to be really hard on him, and I need his help right now. He should be able to rest well tonight before getting started on the wards tomorrow night, as I've been given a draught of Dreamless Sleep Potion so I can sleep myself out tonight and start studying tomorrow."

"Excellent," his aunt replied. "It seems to me you've enough to worry about—the weight of the world on your shoulders and all that. You need to be able to sleep."

Dudley and Uncle Vernon just stared from one to the other, trying to take it all in. Harry could almost see the cogs turning—or at least trying to turn—in their minds. He schooled his features, however, unsure of how long this weird alliance with his aunt could last and unwilling to risk laughter just yet.

"Harry will be taking some special lessons twice a week this summer, the better to protect himself from this Voldemort, who, as I understand it, has a peculiar connection to him through Harry's scar and seems to be trying to read a particular memory?"

"Yes, Aunt, that's right. That's why Dobby's here."

"So here it is, Vernon, Dudley," she looked at each in turn. "You are both to leave Harry alone. No nasty comments about what he is and positively nothing negative about our small houseguest. Have I been rightly understood?" Both nodded mutely, mouths gaping in shock. "Good. Now let's all sit down to the table, before Harry has to take his sleeping draught. Harry, do you think Dobby would like to join us?"

It was Harry's turn to gape stupidly at her. She just raised her eyebrows at him. "Uh, no, thanks, Aunt Petunia. I think it'd be best if I just took him up a plate for tonight so he can rest a bit more. Maybe tomorrow…" Harry couldn't wait to write to Hermione about this turn of events, although he knew Dobby was likely to go hysterical at the mere idea of sitting down to the table with them all. The only time Harry had ever seen a house elf ingest anything at all was during his visits to the kitchen when Winky had been drinking so heavily and the other elves had been ashamed of her behaviour.

This was really turning out to be quite an interesting summer so far.

**A/N: Thanks to my Perfect Imagination Beta, DancingInMagic! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, and I'm not out for profit, of course. It's all JKR's, except for the plot, which is mine. :-)

**Chapter 4: Draco, Dobby, and Dumbledore**

After dinner, Harry went upstairs to take Dobby a plate of food and to dash off a quick note to Hermione. He was relieved to see Dobby sitting up on his bed, looking much better. And he saw that Hedwig had returned from the Burrow. She hooted impatiently at him and stuck out her leg with a note from Ron tied to it. He took it off her and gave her an owl treat.

"Please don't fly off to hunt just yet, girl. I need you to take a note to Hermione."

Hedwig hooted contentedly at him and began to devour her owl treat.

"Here, Dobby," Harry said, turning to his other friend. "I've brought you up something to eat. I hope you don't mind—it's not like what we get at Hogwarts, but Aunt Petunia's not a bad cook or anything." He handed Dobby the plate and cutlery he'd brought up with him and poured the elf a glass of water from the pitcher on his desk.

"Er, Harry Potter, sir?"

"Yes, Dobby?" said Harry, opening Ron's note.

"Where should Dobby go to eat, sir?"

"You're not getting up, Dobby. You're not well enough yet. You'll eat right where you are. And tomorrow you'll eat at the table with the rest of us." Harry looked him in the eyes. "You are not here as a servant, Dobby. You are here as an honoured guest and I expect you to behave as such during your visit. I'll not have you bowing and scraping as if you were unworthy of such treatment, either. Is that clear?"

Dobby's eyes filled with tears. "Dobby is to sit with the family, sir? But…"

"No buts, Dobby. This is not an optional arrangement. And it's the least I can do to thank you for your help, especially considering the risk I'm afraid you're taking with your health." Harry cut him off. "Now eat up, Dobby, while I read my letter and write another one. Lights out in fifteen minutes because that's when I'm to take my Dreamless Sleep draught." Harry turned his back on Dobby and sat down at his desk to read Ron's note. He smiled when he heard the unmistakable sounds of Dobby applying knife and fork to the simple but tasty meal Harry had brought up with him. Then, bracing himself for a good Weasley scolding and thanking his lucky stars a Howler was out of the question considering his living arrangements, he unfolded the note and began to read. He was not disappointed:

Harry,

You're a complete prat! What a waste of ink and parchment! At least try to write something different each time, or else I'll have the twins come up with something really nasty to send you!

Ron

Harry snickered and wrote a short note at the bottom in reply:

Ron,

How's this for different? Had tea with Dumbledore today and he says O.W.L. results are in. We should be receiving our scores in the next day or two. Oh, and Dobby's here for a short visit. Sends his love! Would write more but don't want to waste ink and parchment!

Harry

Then he took out a fresh sheet of parchment for his other letter:

Hermione,

Hope you're well. Am feeling a bit better this evening after having had tea with Dumbledore. He says we should be receiving our O.W.L. results in the next day or two, because he already has them. The only one he told me is that I got an E in Potions. Looks like summer school for me! Mondays and Thursdays I'll be Flooing to Hogwarts for Remedial Potions with McGonagall, lunch with her and the headmaster, then Occlumency with Professor Dumbledore himself.

Oh, and you won't believe who he's left with me to ward me while I learn enough about mental shields to dare to sleep! DOBBY! (Along with a book on Occlumency to study.)

And what's more, my Aunt Petunia's actually turning into a real human being! And (you'll love this) absolutely insists that my houseguest sit at the table and eat with the rest of us! Dobby, of course, is pretty freaked out by the idea, but I put my foot down and gave him no choice. I'll not have him lorded over by the likes of Dudley, thank you very much.

Got to go—Dumbledore left me a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion and I'm to take it at 8 p.m. sharp. After three nights of no sleep, I'm not taking any chances, as it's 7:58 right now. Just enough time to send Hedwig off to you.

Harry

He hurriedly sealed his letters and tied them to Hedwig's leg, giving specific instructions to deliver Hermione's letter first. Then he put on his pyjamas, climbed into bed, scooting an already sleeping Dobby over closer to the wall, took off his glasses, turned off the lights, and downed Madam Pomfrey's potion in one long gulp. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Harry awoke slowly, marvelling at just how great it felt to get a good night's sleep. He opened his eyes and reached for his glasses to be able to check the time. Eleven o'clock! Wow! He'd really slept late for living with the Dursleys! He sat up, stretched, and then looked for Dobby. He was gone, and his room was immaculately clean. Harry shook his head and got out of bed, stretching again and yawning hugely. Now where could his little friend have got himself off toACR2? Harry shrugged his shoulders and headed for the bathroom.

After his shower, a much more awake Harry returned to his room to find the bed made, but still no Dobby.

"Maybe he's downstairs with Aunt Petunia," Harry wondered aloud. He finished dressing and went down to find out. What he saw made him laugh out loud. There was Dobby, sitting at the kitchen table, feet swinging like a small child, having tea and biscuits with Aunt Petunia. The kitchen was so clean it literally sparkled, and the twosome at the table looked to be having a cosy little chat.

Dobby jumped to his feet and opened his mouth to apologise.

"Don't you dare apologise, Dobby," Harry cut him off. "You heard what I said last night. You're here as a guest. Got that?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Of course, sir. But Dobby has kept Harry Potter's breakfast warm for him, sir, and just wants to get it for him." Dobby hurried to open the oven and magic a large platter of food over to the table for Harry, along with a huge glass of orange juice.

"Wow! Thanks, Dobby! Aunt Petunia, this looks fantastic!"

Aunt Petunia smiled. "Don't thank me, thank your friend here. He made us all breakfast—said he wanted us all to have a taste of Hogwarts. Although he refused to sit and eat with the rest of us—said he had to wait for you."

"Dobby, you should have eaten with the family. I slept so late! You must be very hungry."

"Dobby is feeling quite hungry, Harry Potter, sir, but Dobby has never eaten with the family before, sir, and was nervous, so he decided to wait for Harry Potter."

Harry grinned. "Fine, Dobby. I'm here now, so let's eat. And don't tell me you've filled up on tea and biscuits." He sat at the square table between its two occupants and set to filling his plate. Then he sat and waited, looking pointedly at Dobby.

Aunt Petunia laughed. "Dobby, please serve yourself. I don't think he'll eat without you."

Dobby's ears folded back and he hunched his shoulders as he reached for the platter, looking around nervously.

"Dobby, my friend, what are you looking for? You're the only house elf here, so no one will be disapproving, and I'm the only wizard—no Malfoys to wallop you for your forwardness. As if they'd be able to get anywhere near you here."

Once Dobby had filled his plate to Harry's satisfaction, Harry grinned again and dug into the plentiful breakfast with great gusto. Dobby ate a bit more timidly, but he did eat, sitting at the Dursleys' kitchen table, safe from the prying eyes of the elder Malfoys, but not quite as Malfoy-free as Harry had assumed.

Suddenly, just outside the open window, a low voice growled "Stupefy!" and a jet of red light struck something. That something fell with a thud. Harry rushed to the window, wand in his hand, in time to hear a sharp 'thwack' like the sound of a wand hitting someone over the head in a less-than-gentle manner. Then slowly the prostate form of Draco Malfoy was revealed to be lying on the ground, clutching a Nimbus 2001.

"Good thing I can see through Disillusionment Charms, eh, Potter?" came the same gruff voice.

"Yeah, Professor Moody. Good thing. I wonder what the little ferret was up to," Harry drawled, not at all as confident as he sounded to have Malfoy show up outside his kitchen window. He turned to Dobby to share in the supposed joke, but his little guest was petrified with fear, staring in horror at the prostate form of his former young master.

"Keep an eye on this trash, Potter, while I look around and make sure there aren't any more of them. Bloody Junior Death Eaters."

"With pleasure, sir. You may find Crabbe and Goyle lurking around if this one's here—he rarely makes a move on his own. I rather think it's more of a personal vendetta than anything directly connected to the Death Eaters. He is, after all, pretty angry with me for getting his father put into Azkaban a few weeks ago. As if I forced the evil git to come to the Ministry to spring the trap they set for me."

"There is that, yes, Potter, but considering what you got his father arrested for, in my mind those motives are one and the same."

"Good point, sir. Although I almost wish he'd come to so I could have the pleasure of stunning him myself, the slimy git."

"I'm sure you do, Potter, but with all the special permissions you're getting this summer, it's probably not a good idea to look like you're abusing privileges. I'd hate to se you hauled up on misuse of magic charges again—although how they can claim that any action against a Malfoy is misuse…

"By the way, this little turd was obviously eavesdropping. Anything we should worry about?"

"Just Dobby's presence in this house, I think. Unless he and Aunt Petunia were chatting about anything important?" Harry turned a questioning gaze on his aunt.

"I don't think so—I assume young Mr. Malfoy is acquainted by now with the details of just what happened during your second year..." Aunt Petunia said.

"If he wasn't, maybe it'll open his eyes a bit more to what dear old Daddy's been up to," Harry said. "It might give him some ideas, but I suppose that can't really be helped."

"I'll be right back, Potter. Perimeter check," said Moody. There was a rustling in the bushes, then silence.

"H-Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is sorry for putting you in danger," Dobby began, cringing.

"Nonsense, Dobby," Harry said. "If anyone's been put in danger by your being seen here, it's you yourself. As soon as Moody gets back, I'm going to crack those books so you don't have to be at risk for any longer than is absolutely necessary." He grabbed his plate from the table and ate standing at the window so he could keep an eye on Malfoy.

"Well, Potter, it looks like this slimeball was acting on his own. And if not, he's the only one who could have overheard anything interesting, I should think. I'll just modify his memory a bit, shall I, and send the little runt home to Mommy," Moody's voice came through the bushes after a couple of minutes.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I suppose that's all we can do. After all, eavesdropping's all we can accuse him of at this point, in spite of his intentions."

"Er, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby began.

"Yes, Dobby?" Harry turned toward the elf.

"Dobby is knowing young Master Draco's intentions, sir, and Dobby doesn't think letting him go is a very good idea, sir." Dobby looked like he couldn't believe what he was saying.

Harry felt his lip curl. "Don't ever let me hear you call him that again, Dobby. I mean it."

Dobby's eyes widened.

"Moody, if Dobby's right—which I don't doubt—we'd best send for Dumbledore, don't you think?" Harry said.

"I agree, Potter. But what to do with…" Moody began.

"Dobby will go get Professor Dumbledore!" There was a 'pop!' and Dobby vanished. Almost immediately he and Albus Dumbledore appeared in the Dursley's kitchen, holding onto Fawkes' tail. The phoenix flew directly to Harry's shoulder and began crooning comfortingly.

Harry laughed and petted the beautiful bird. "Thanks, Fawkes. I'm fine, really. You seem to be there for me almost as much as your master, don't you?"

Fawkes crooned some more in reply.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore. We're sorry to bother you, but we have a bit of a situation here," Harry said.

Moody scoffed. "Yes, Dumbledore, just a bit of one."

Professor Dumbledore bowed to Aunt Petunia, then approached the open window and gazed neutrally down on the prostrate form of one of his students. He flicked his wand and Malfoy was instantly bound with thick ropes.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said quietly, "please take young Mr. Malfoy to a safe place for questioning. The Shrieking Shack should do nicely. I'll join you there shortly. Whatever you do, don't wake him up just yet. Fawkes, if you would be so kind…"

Harry felt his lip curl again at the thought of that slimy git so much as touching Fawkes. When the bird had vanished in a flash of fire with his charges, Harry muttered, "It's a shame poor Fawkes had to get his feathers dirty."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in unmistakable amusement. "Yes, quite. But he's had to put up with much worse in the past, I assure you, Harry." He turned to Aunt Petunia. "Forgive my rudeness a moment ago, Petunia."

"Not at all, Professor Dumbledore. Certain priorities must take precedence over social niceties," Aunt Petunia held out her hand and Dumbledore shook it. Then she indicated with a gesture that he should sit down. He did so with a smile.

Harry was still marvelling at how psychedelic this summer was turning out to be. He wasn't quite sure how to take in Aunt Petunia's sudden receptiveness to the Wizarding world she had despised for so long.

She laughed at him as though reading his mind. "Oh, Harry," she gasped. "The look on your face right now!"

Harry grinned sheepishly and sat down on the last unoccupied chair while his aunt grabbed the cordless telephone and dialled.

"Hello, Mrs. Figg?" she said into the receiver. "Petunia Dursley here. Yes, yes, he's fine, although we had a bit of an incident this morning. Let me put Professor Dumbledore on for you…no, really, Harry's just fine...okay, talk to you soon. Good-bye." She handed the headmaster the telephone. "I figured since you sent Mr. Moody off you probably need someone to take over his shift," she said simply.

Dumbledore just smiled, nodded, and put the phone to his ear. "Arabella? Good morning. Yes, he's really fine. Not to worry, Arabella. But I need you to do me a favour, please. Could you contact headquarters and have someone else come take over for the rest of Moody's shift? No, he's fine, too. I just need him elsewhere for the present. Yes, Dobby and I will be here until the replacement checks in. Yes, thank you, Arabella. Good day." He took the telephone from his ear and studied it for a moment before pressing the on/off button and returning the device to Aunt Petunia.

"Now, Dobby," he turned to the elf. "Please tell us more about young Mr. Malfoy's intentions." Dobby looked nervously at Harry and then turned pleading eyes on Dumbledore once more.

"No, none of that, Dobby. The time for keeping secrets from Harry for his own good is long gone. You know full well what happened the last time he wasn't told everything he needed to know, and I'll not have him put at risk yet again. Not before the right time comes." Harry felt chills run up and down his spine at the reference, but said nothing.

"Well," the elf began, "you remember a few weeks ago, Professor Dumbledore, sir, when Dobby went to visit poor Dilly at...at…"

"At the Malfoys'," Dumbledore finished for him.

Dobby gave the headmaster a grateful look. "Yes, sir. Poor Dilly has suffered more than ever since Dobby was freed." Dumbledore just nodded.

"Well, sir, while Dobby was there, we had a visit from Kreacher, sir, who told us of the trick he'd played on Harry Potter and how it had caused Kreacher's master to be killed." Dobby looked sick, but he continued speaking. "Kreacher had come to speak with Dilly's mistress about what he should do next. She sent him to work for the Lestrange family. As a reward, she said."

Harry blanched. "That won't compromise the Order, will it, sir?" He tried to sound as detached and professional as possible, but his voice shook and even cracked on the last word.

"The Order is not what I'm most worried about at the moment, Harry. I think you are fully aware of my highest priority." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in Harry's direction.

"The prophecy," Harry whispered.

"What prophecy?" Aunt Petunia snapped, sounding like her normal self.

Harry cleared his throat. "It's the reason Voldemort came after me in the first place all those years ago. He wasn't really after my parents at all. It was me he wanted. And it's me he still has to kill to win this war. Either that, or I have to kill him first," he said softly, voice cracking with emotion that he'd actually said all of this aloud. He was strangely gratified when his aunt paled and her eyes widened.

"He's still after my nephew?" she turned to Dumbledore for confirmation. Dumbledore nodded, then looked to Dobby.

The house elf sort of shrank into his chair before continuing, "Draco Malfoy asked his mother what she meant about rewarding a house elf, and she explained that in spite of the fact that her husband had been arrested in the Death Eaters' attack on Harry Potter and his friends, some—some good also came of it because her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange, had managed to defeat their cousin Sirius Black in a duel and send him to his death. And that the whole thing happened because of Kreacher's loyalty to the true members of the House of Black.

"She also said that best of all, poor little Harry Potter had lost his godfather after having found him such a short time before. Then Draco Malfoy laughed and said that Harry Potter deserved it and that he could think of a lot worse things that Harry Potter deserved. His mother said that it was too bad the Dark Lord couldn't touch him during the summers at his relatives' house, so Draco said that if the Dark Lord couldn't hurt Harry Potter at his family's house, then he would think of something to get Harry Potter kicked out of the house so the Dark Lord could finally finish him off."

"Slimy little git!" came a tired voice at the window.

"Good morning, Remus. Thank you for coming. I'll be back as soon as young Mr. Malfoy has been searched and dealt with." He nodded to Harry, Aunt Petunia, and Dobby, then Disapparated.

"Professor Lupin, please come in and sit down. You should have some of this food and some nice, hot tea. Okay, so you should really be out cold in your bed still after last night. I can't believe they got you up for this, sir!" Harry opened the kitchen door and waited expectantly.

"Yes, Professor Lupin, is it? Do come in," said Aunt Petunia.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dursley, Harry. I am rather tired still." Remus Lupin removed an Invisibility Cloak as soon as the door closed behind him. "And Harry, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Remus or Uncle Moony or anything but 'Professor'? That job ended two years ago already."

"Old habits die hard, sir," Harry grinned. "Besides, you're still the best Defence teacher we ever had."

"Not that there's been much competition or anything. Maybe they should just finally give it to Severus already," he said with a tired smile . ACR3Harry hurried to serve him up a plate of breakfast and pour him a steaming cup of tea. He gestured to the chair Dumbledore had been using.

Lupin chuckled softly. "That's the closest someone like me will ever get to taking the Headmaster's place."

Harry tried to smile at this, but it was all too true, considering current legislation. "Aunt Petunia, Remus Lupin was one of my parents' best friends."

"Yes," she said. "I think I remember seeing him in the photographs my parents took of Lily's wedding."

Lupin coughed uncomfortably and Harry looked up at him in shock. "Merlin's beard!" he said. "I've been such a self-absorbed little brat, wallowing in my own misery without a thought for anyone but myself. And you—you're continuing to fight as if you hadn't just lost your very best friend yet again." Harry was furious with himself.

"Harry, you've not exactly been wallowing in your misery without reason. Dumbledore informed us that he finally allowed you to learn the prophecy. Not even we members of the Order have heard the precise wording—all we know is that you're the only one of us who is indispensable. The entire Order is ready to die to keep you safe while you're trained up for the final face-off. Molly, as you can imagine, is beside herself with worry for you now that you've heard it. And after everything that happened this past year, I must say I agree with her. It's a tremendous burden you bear, Harry. And although you're the focus of what must be done, you're not alone, okay? We all love you, Harry, and we're all with you in this."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I'll just bet the entire Order feels the way you do, Uncle Moony. I'll just bet." He was trying to picture Snape saying what Lupin just had, and he couldn't even come close to pulling it off.

Lupin smiled. "Yes, Harry, even Severus Snape is ready to die to keep you safe. He may not love you, but he loves the idea of you. It's just too bad he can't get past hating you for being your father's son."

"My dad was a real git to him in school, but he did save his life that time—even if he really did it to protect you and Sirius." Harry shook his head.

"As Sirius and I told you, Harry, James hated the dark arts, and Severus was into them up to his eyeballs back at school. They hated one another like you and Draco Malfoy do. Perhaps even more. It took us a long time to trust him, even with Dumbledore vouching for him. Until he proved himself utterly by…" but he never finished because at that moment Dumbledore Apparated into the kitchen.

"Doxy eggs," the old man said by way of a greeting. "A pouchful of doxy eggs. That was his plan to get Harry kicked out of the house." He shook his head.

"As if they'd ever have had the chance to hatch in this house! My aunt vacuums and scours this place on a daily basis. They'd've hatched way off in a rubbish heap somewhere or been killed by cleaning chemicals. If that's the best Malfoy can do, I'm probably safe for as long as I'm here this summer." Harry cracked up laughing. Even Lupin and Dobby looked amused. Dumbledore, however, did not.

"We'll need to double the guard and strengthen the wards. Dobby, I'll need you to accompany Harry on each outing and to and from Hogwarts for each lesson. Even after he masters the basics of Occlumency.

"Harry, he's visual confirmation of where you live and the fact that Dobby's staying with you. He may underestimate the abilities of elves, but his mother probably won't, and Voldemort certainly won't. He'll know exactly what we're up to and Dobby will become a target. I need you to stay here until the end of the month, Harry. Then we very well may need to move you to school a month early. To keep both of you safe.

"Petunia, I have yet another houseguest to ask you to take: in Remus Lupin here. I hope you don't mind. It really is a question of keeping you all safe, not just Harry. And I'll strengthen the wards as well so that even if we're all gone, any magical intruder will trip an alarm and the place will be surrounded by the Order in a heartbeat. You'll not be left unprotected."

Aunt Petunia nodded. "This situation seems to be more serious each day," she whispered, a haunted look in her eyes.

Dumbledore nodded. "The authorised guards will be Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, and any of the elder four Weasleys only, Remus. You and Dobby are to be with Harry at all times, even in the house…"

"Er, at all times, Professor?" Harry interrupted.

"Well, in the bathroom and when you're asleep, Dobby will be present. But Remus will be with you at all other times."

"I'll go make up the guest room," said Aunt Petunia, and she stood to go.

"Thank you, Petunia," Dumbledore said, then continued, "The rest of the Weasleys and the Grangers, along with Arabella Figg are the only authorised visitors, present company and Minerva McGonagall excepted, of course. Any other visitors had better be well-known to the family and Muggles. But even then, utmost care must be taken, Remus, as Dobby won't be physically at Harry's side during such visits. Dobby, you will watch over Harry from an appropriate hidey-hole. I'd prefer you avoided going invisible, as it's so hard on you. Of course, Harry could always dig out his father's Invisibility Cloak, but only in extreme cases…"

"Such as a visit from Aunt Marge or an important business dinner?" said Harry, grinning.

"Precisely, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling merrily. Dobby looked sheepish at the latter reference, but remained silent.

"Remus, if you'd like, take this opportunity to pop home for your things. I'll wait for your return," Dumbledore added.

"So, what did you do with Malfoy, sir?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do, aside from a Memory Charm to wipe out Dobby's presence in this house. That and take him straight to his mother. She'll more likely punish him for getting caught than for what he tried to do, of course, but the humiliation of the situation may give him pause."

"I doubt it, sir. More likely he'll blame me for it and have yet another reason to resent me. Too bad for him his snide little remarks are losing their potency. As long as it's all talk, I can pretend to be annoyed enough that he'll not be tempted to go any farther, I suppose.

"I still can't believe he thinks it's my fault his father's in prison. Talk about twisted!" he shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

Dumbledore and Lupin chuckled at that, then Lupin Disapparated.

**A/N: Thanks to my Perfect Imagination Beta, DancingInMagic! **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Never was, never will be. OK, so the plot was my idea, but the characters and the world the story is set in all belong to the great JKR, may she never again run out of lined paper!_

_**A/N:** This has been beta-ed, but I've been awaiting final approval. Finally decided my beta's too busy, so am posting as is. Hope there's nothing glaringly wrong! And so I must also say thanks to said beta, DancingInMagic. Thanks, Sarah!_

**Chapter 5: O.W.L.S and Occlumency**

When Uncle Vernon and Dudley arrived home for dinner that night, they expected to see the houseguest they already knew about, who appeared harmless enough and served up such marvellous breakfasts. But they most certainly were _not_ prepared to see a member of Harry's Welcoming Committee sitting in the lounge with Harry and Petunia, enjoying a nice cup of tea.

Petunia's smile of greeting was quite genuine, although Harry's grin had an evil, mischievous cast to it. But as Petunia made the introductions, Uncle Vernon could only sputter at the mention of Professor Lupin's former place of employment. He couldn't very well shout at _her_ for mentioning Harry's abnormality under his roof. Especially as he'd made no fuss at all over Dobby's presence, even if the house elf demonstrated more useful skills than the former professor, in Uncle Vernon's eyes at least.

The thought that at least it wasn't Mad-Eye Moody passed so obviously across his features that Lupin and Harry looked at one another and grinned.

Dudley merely gave a terrified sort of squawk at being forced to shake hands with an adult wizard and then sat down as quickly as possible. Lupin gave Harry a sort of "What the…" look, but Harry just mouthed, "I'll tell you later," grinned again, and kept silent, aside from sort of choking on a sip of tea.

"You missed meeting Professor Dumbledore himself this morning, Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying. Harry forced his attention from Dudley's frightened face and back to the main conversation.

"What!" spluttered Uncle Vernon. "Do you mean to tell me _he_ was in this house!"

"Yes, dear," she replied calmly, taking a sip of tea as if this sort of thing were completely normal.

"That old cr…" he cut himself off at the look on Harry's face, or perhaps at the fact that Harry's had had automatically reached for the wand he kept up his sleeve at all times.

"Ha!" he barked. "You can't do you-know-what during vacations!" He sneered at his nephew.

"_I_ can't, necessarily, but Professor Lupin can. And so can Dobby. And I might just forget myself one of these days under extreme provocation. Such as an insult to the greatest sorcerer of our time, who happens to have done all of us a great many personal favours." Harry forced a polite tone, even while speaking such threatening words.

"After what I've personally seen Harry do, Mr. Dursley, I really wouldn't push him," Lupin said quietly.

Uncle Vernon turned on him with a growl, but before he could speak, Harry interrupted him once more.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Uncle Vernon. There's more to Uncle Moony than meets the eye. But then I've no wish to give you nightmares. The full moon was last night so we're all safe—for now." There was a feral glint in Harry's eye, he could actually _feel_ it.

Uncle Vernon shut up.

Harry shot Lupin an apologetic glance, but Lupin just nodded, as if pleased that his lycanthropy could have a positive application.

Aunt Petunia cleared her throat. "The table should be set by now. Shall we move into the dining room? With so much company we can't very well eat in the kitchen, now, can we?" She took Uncle Vernon's arm and half dragged him with her into the next room.

Harry gestured for Dudley to precede him, but his cousin returned the gesture, indicated that Lupin should go first. Harry hid his laugh with a cough and directed his former professor through the doorway. This was _definitely_ going to be a better summer than ever, in spite of all that had happened and would undoubtedly still happen.

After dinner Dudley fled the house to hang out with his gang for a couple more hours. Harry sat in a corner of the lounge and studied his Occlumency book, Dobby sitting protectively at his feet, while Lupin sat talking quietly with the Dursleys about some of what had been happening in the Wizarding world.

After about an hour, Uncle Vernon looked and sounded a bit more comfortable with Professor Lupin's presence in his house, and even looked at his nephew with something akin to respect.

Then the telephone rang and all five of them jumped. Aunt Petunia, being the closest, reached over and picked up the receiver. "Hello, Dursley residence," she said. "Oh, yes, of course. You're on the authorized list, so just a moment and I'll connect him for you." She got up and started over to Harry, extending the cordless telephone.

"Authorized list?" said Uncle Vernon. "What's this about an authorized list?"

Aunt Petunia handed Harry the telephone, then returned to her seat to quietly explain to her husband what had transpired in their kitchen that morning.

Harry held the handset to his ear. "Hello?" he said.

"Hi, Harry! What's all this about an authorized list?" asked the voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh, hi, Hermione! It's a _really_ long story," and he launched into a recital of the day's events, with his friend making surprised or shocked noises at all the correct moments.

"So, how are _you_ doing?" he asked, once he'd recounted everything.

"I'm fine," she said. "I was just worried about _you_, really. But after what you said about Dobby, I just _had_ to call and see how it was going with him. And now your guard has been doubled _and_ Professor Lupin is to stay with you for a while? Harry, this is really serious."

"No kidding, Hermione. There's something I've not told you and Ron. About that day at the Department of Mysteries and later in Dumbledore's office," Harry confessed.

"Is it about the prophecy that V-Voldemort wanted?" she asked

Harry laughed. "Yes, it is. Why am I not surprised you figured that out?"

Lupin shot him a warning look across the room. Harry nodded in acknowledgement. "Suffice it to say that our side knows more than his, okay? I can't exactly recite what I heard over the telephone, just in case, nor should I really tell you anyhow. But it's the real reason I'm going to study Occlumency as hard as I can so I can dare to sleep again."

"Oh, Harry! You've not been _sleeping_!" Hermione sounded dismayed.

"Well, it was only for three nights. Last night I slept like a log—between Madam Pomfrey's Dreamless Sleep draught and Dobby warding my sleep, I couldn't do otherwise." He laughed so she could hear that he really was okay.

"If you say so, Harry," Hermione wasn't convinced. "I'll call again on Monday evening so you can tell me all about Remedial Potions and class with Dumbledore."

"Okay," he said. "But really, _you're_ the one I'm worried about. I mean, everyone else who went with us that day is surrounded by adult wizards, aren't they? I wonder if you shouldn't go to the Burrow for a while."

"Don't worry so much, Harry. Professor Dumbledore came this afternoon to set up more wards around the house and I'm pretty sure I'm under guard as well. That's why I called, really. I figured something was up with you and had to be sure you were all right."

"Thanks, Hermione. I'll sleep better knowing he's done that for you and your family. Although I worry you've got the ones who were supposed to be guarding _me_ last year—and you've no Mrs. Figg to take Dung to task!"

Hermione laughed. "Don't you worry about that. Mr. or Mrs. Weasley have been popping by every day or two to check on us anyhow, and Mrs. Weasley stepped out into the shrubbery for a few moments before she left. I got the distinct impression she was scolding someone. You know how subtle she is when she's scolding."

They both laughed heartily at that, then said good-bye and hung up.

That night, after saying good-night to Lupin and Aunt Petunia, Harry and Dobby retired to Harry's room so Dobby could set up the wards for sleeping. It really was amazing to see the things the little elf could do without a wand. It made Harry start to think that Hermione had a point with all that S.P.E.W. stuff. He just wished she'd consulted with Ron on the name—H.E.L.F. was a lot less embarrassing to wear around on a badge. People were too busy snickering at the name _spew_ to pay any attention to the literature. He'd have to write her a letter in the morning.

For now, he concentrated on clearing his mind for sleep. Why hadn't Snape taken the time to explain _how_ to do this? He'd just concentrated on making the lessons as miserable as possible for Harry. Oh, sure, he'd been mouthing the principles Harry had read in that book Dumbledore lent him, but he'd never told or shown Harry how to do any of it. He'd just attacked and attacked and attacked, leaving Harry if anything _more_ vulnerable to Voldemort's mental penetrations rather than less.

"Okay, Harry," he thought. "This is getting you nowhere right now. You need to concentrate on the here and now, not on that greasy git. Clear your mind…" His mind barely registered the fact that he'd succeeded for the first time before he was out cold for the second night in a row. He did dream, but it was of lazy late spring days, lounging by the lake at Hogwarts under the beech tree. There were birds singing in the trees and flowers in bloom everywhere. He was feeding toast to the giant squid and watching clouds float by. The peaceful smile this scene caused wiped out the tension in his head and neck as he slept undisturbed until 9 a.m., when a large barn owl tapped imperiously at his bedroom window, a thick parchment envelope bearing double seals attached to its leg.

Harry grinned, feeling he was ready for just about anything after yet a second great night's sleep. "Hey, Dobby, we've mail this morning. Do you need to take down any wards or anything so the post owl can come in?"

Dobby groaned in his sleep and waved a hand. Harry actually _felt_ the protective wards drop. "Wow!" he said, and hurried to open the window.

It was just as he had suspected. The double seals were from Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. It could mean only one thing—his O.W.L. results. He removed the envelope from the barn owl's leg and Hedwig moved over to allow the visitor to drink from her dish. Harry offered it an owl treat, which it accepted with dignity, apparently in no real hurry to get going. Harry gave one to Hedwig as well for good measure and plopped down on the bed to rip open his test scores. He scanned through them once, then whooped for joy and rushed off to find Lupin.

"Professor Lupin!" he shouted, thundering down the stairs. He gave another whoop and burst into the kitchen where the object of his search sat having a cup of tea with Aunt Petunia.

"So now it's 'Professor Lupin' again, is it?" he said, eyebrows raised.

"It is on the morning I get my O.W.L. results, Uncle Moody!" Harry grinned, then plunked himself down into a chair and grabbed a slice of toast. "Good morning, Aunt Petunia!"

She nodded in reply and actually looked interested to hear how Harry had done, so Lupin read the scores aloud:

"Charms, Outstanding; Transfiguration, Exceeds Expectations; Herbology, Exceeds Expectations; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Outstanding Plus; Potions, Exceeds Expectations; Care of Magical Creatures, Outstanding; Astronomy, Acceptable; Divination, Dreadful; History of Magic, Dreadful

"What happened in the last three, Harry?" he asked when he finished.

"In Astronomy I only finished about two-thirds of my star chart before they went after Hagrid and Stunned McGonagall. Divination was always a waste—never learned a _thing_, except maybe from Firenze. And History of Magic was the morning after the Astronomy practical. I-uh-fell asleep, and that's when Voldemort sent the fake vision," Harry said.

Lupin paled. "Well, that's understandable. Would you mind telling me, though, what's with the 'Plus' in your Defense grade?"

Harry laughed. "I have my third year professor and the Dementors to thank for that, I guess. You see, my examiner offered me an extra point if I'd show him my corporeal Patronus Charm. So I looked straight at Umbridge and imagined her being sacked. I don't think Prongs has ever come across stronger!" Lupin laughed with him.

"You see, Aunt Petunia, the Patronus is what I was forced to use last summer in that alleyway with Dudley. And it turns out Umbridge herself ordered the attack on me to try and silence me."

"Is that so, Harry?" Lupin asked, brow furrowed.

"She confessed it in front of witnesses. Why do you think she lost her place in the Ministry as well as at Hogwarts?" Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore knows, which is why she was sacked so quickly. My cousin was nearly Kissed."

Aunt Petunia paled and shuddered at the memory. "I still can't believe you saved his life, after all we've…" she stopped, shaking her head.

"No one deserves to have their soul sucked out through their mouth. Except maybe Voldemort himself, and even then…"

"By the way, Uncle Moony, I'm worried about Dobby. He's still asleep," Harry said.

"But the O.W.L. results…" Lupin said, looking alarmed.

"Oh, he took down the wards when I asked him to, but never even opened his eyes. I think this duty is taking way too much of a toll on him. I don't like it one bit."

"Harry, your safety…" Lupin began, looking uncomfortable.

"Is of the highest priority, yes, I'm aware of that. But I refuse to kill Dobby off in this way! I'm going to try and insist he stay at Hogwarts tomorrow. I made more progress last night in Occlumency than in nearly six months of Snape's tutoring. He always left me so mentally battered and bruised that I had nearly constant headaches and was left even more open to Voldemort's incursions than before. I understand now why Dumbledore didn't teach me himself, but there has to have been a better way! He at least should have given me the book at Christmas to read up a bit before starting with Snape so I'd have had a clue!" Harry was really getting worked up now and forced himself to stop and take a few deep, cleansing breaths and clear his mind of turmoil, like he'd read about the night before. It actually seemed to help.

Harry calmly finished his toast, then grabbed a bar of chocolate from the freezer and went to check on Dobby.

His little friend was terribly pale and weak. "Dobby," Harry whispered, "I want you to try and eat some of this chocolate. Maybe it'll help you get your strength back. And I don't want to see you lift a _finger_ around this house apart from setting up and taking down the wards until after we've gone to Hogwarts tomorrow and Madam Pomfrey's had a look at you."

Dobby opened his mouth and croaked a weak protest that brought tears to Harry's eyes. "Would this be easier if you could use a wand?" he asked.

"Probably, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby croaked. "But house elves isn't allowed to use wands, sir." He took a bite of the chocolate bar Harry had placed in his hands and his colour immediately started to improve.

"Stay in bed until I come for you, Dobby, unless of course you need to use the bathroom or something. There's water in the pitcher on my desk. I need to go see to something." He lifted a hand to still the elf's protest. "I'll be sure to take Uncle Moody wherever I go. You _rest_." He turned on his heel and left the room.

Lupin found him later, wearing a path in the lounge carpet. "Did the chocolate help?" he asked.

"It seemed to. That stupid law needs to be changed, though. If he were allowed to use a wand, he wouldn't be draining himself like this," Harry fumed.

"Sounds like Hermione finally has herself a dedicated member of S.P.E.W."

Harry smacked his forehead. "Hermione! I was going to write her this morning about this but forgot to, what with Dobby being sick and the O.W.L. results and all! I need to _talk_ to her, though! And it _can't_ wait until tomorrow."

Lupin stuck his head out the front door. "Who's on duty?" he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Bill Weasley."

"Do us a favour and pop over to the Grangers' house. Bring Hermione to Mrs. Figg's house via Floo. Leave the guard there, though, to look out for her parents meanwhile."

"Is everything okay?" Bill's voice sounded concerned.

"Harry's fine, if that's what you mean, Bill. We just need to talk to Hermione for a bit, please."

"Yes, sir!" There was a sound of clicking heels and the 'pop' of a Disapparation.

Harry and Lupin laughed at the image of Bill, long ponytail, fang earrings, and all, saluting so militarily, then they shut the door and sat down to wait.

Aunt Petunia came into the lounge and sat down too. "Is Dobby alright?" she asked.

"Well, the chocolate seems to have helped a bit, but this is literally killing him," Harry said frowning.

The telephone rang and Aunt Petunia answered it, then handed it to Harry. "It's your friend from last night."

"Hello, Hermione?" Harry said, grabbing the cordless receiver and jumping up to pace some more.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked. "Bill just popped in and said you and Remus needed me."

"Yeah, Uncle Moony sent him. We're okay, but Dobby's not. I have too much to talk about to write it all down and it's too important to wait for Hedwig. But first, give me your telephone number so we don't scare you again like this." He jotted down the number on a notepad Aunt Petunia handed him as he spoke.

Then Harry spilled it all out—his worries for Dobby, his guilt over Dobby's illness, his ideas for the future of S.P.E.W.—first and foremost of which (after the name change, of course) included the authorization of wand use for elves. He also mentioned his progress with Occlumency and his suspicions that a certain family member was either someone else using Polyjuice Potion or was acting under the Imperius Curse—she had left the room for the moment at that point, but Lupin cracked up laughing at that.

Wiping streaming eyes, Lupin choked out, "Dumbledore'd never authorize the Imperius Curse," as Hermione said exactly the same thing over the telephone.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't put it past Moody!" Harry laughed.

Hermione laughed at her end too. "She's not drinking every hour on the hour from a hip flask, is she?"

"No!" Harry chuckled. "I think we can probably rule out the Polyjuice Potion, at least."

"Did you ever think that maybe she's telling the truth about lamenting how they've all treated you?" Hermione asked.

"As much as I'd like to believe her, a lifetime of that sort of treatment is a lot to overcome in such a short time," Harry said seriously.

"I realize that, Harry, but maybe you should give her a chance—she _is_ your only living blood relative, after all. Well, apart from your cousin," Hermione said.

"Don't remind me," Harry rolled his eyes.

Lupin cracked up laughing again and had to hide his face in a book until he could control his features, for at that moment Aunt Petunia came back into the room.

"Too bad you can't just read her mind and find out what has really caused such a drastic change in her behaviour."

A light clicked on in Harry's brain. "Too bad _I_ can't. But maybe I'm not so unwilling to see Snape right now after all. I don't think Dumbledore would ever invade her privacy, but Snape very well might be willing to test her."

Lupin's head snapped up, eyes boring into Harry's.

"What?" Harry said defensively. "Something really weird is happening with that woman and it could threaten the entire war effort. If you two _knew_ what was in that little glass ball at the Department of Mysteries…"

"I saw it smash on the steps when it fell from Neville's pocket!" said Lupin.

"Yes, but as Trelawney made the original prophecy to Dumbledore himself, he was able to show it to me that very night in his Pensieve."

Silence.

"And no, I won't tell you what it was. _She_ doesn't even know she made it because she went into a trance. Why do you think Dumbledore insists upon her staying at Hogwarts? She also predicted Wormtail's return to Voldemort the very day it happened—I was the last to take my final exam and so was the only one to hear it. I told Dumbledore about it later, of course, but that was already after the fact, so we were unable to prevent it."

"I'll contact Severus immediately," said Lupin, and he strode from the room.

"So, Hermione, I imagine your O.W.L. results arrived this morning and you got ten Os," Harry said.

"Close," she said. "Eight Os and two Es—Ancient Runes and Astronomy."

"Oh, of course. One mistranslation and the slight distraction provided by Umbridge and company attacking Hagrid and Stunning McGonagall."

She laughed. "You guessed it! So how did _you_ do?"

"An O-plus in Defense, Os in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, Es in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions, and an A in Astronomy. Never mind the other two."

"Ds? It's no wonder—Divination's a joke and you slept through History of Magic," she said.

"I was so tired after what happened the night before that I couldn't help myself. I studied rather than taking a nap that morning, so…"

"And in spite of your exhaustion, we certainly went on to have one of the longest days of our lives," she said, her voice so sad Harry didn't even cringe at the reference to that horrible day.

"So, have you heard from Ron about his O.W.L.s yet?" Harry asked.

"Actually, Pig just now showed up. Let me catch him and read the note," she said, and set down the receiver. A moment later she picked it up and read," Charms, E; Transfiguration, E; Herbology, E; Defense, O; Potions, O; Care of Magical Creatures, O; Astronomy, A; Divination, D; History of Magic, A."

"Yeah, he didn't sleep through that last one," Harry joked. Other than that last exam, he and Ron had gotten pretty much the same results—except for the Charms and Potions grades being switched. "Looks like Ron and I will be together for most all of our classes, and even for over half of _yours_," he said.

At that moment there was the distinctive 'pop' of someone Apparating in the hallway. "I'll talk to you later, Hermione," Harry's voice rasped, sounding unfamiliar even to himself.

"Harry?" she said. "Is everything all right?"

"Later," Harry repeated and cut the connection. Wand in hand, he crept to the hallway door and peeked out. The figure he saw, although not inspiring joy in his heart, made him so giddy with relief he began hyperventilating.

The figure turned at the sound of his labored breathing. "You wanted to see me, Potter?" it sneered.

Harry managed to nod before falling to his knees and coughing his lungs back into control.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Never was, never will be. OK, so the plot was my idea, but the characters and the world the story is set in all belong to the great JKR, may she never again run out of lined paper!

**A/N:** This has been beta-ed, but I've been awaiting final approval. Finally decided my beta's too busy, so am posting as is. Hope there's nothing glaringly wrong! And so I must also say thanks to said beta, DancingInMagic. Thanks, Sarah!

**Chapter 6: Petunia and Potions**

Lupin came tearing down the stairs, wand out as well, but stopped short at the scene below. "So very good of you to make the time to come over so immediately, Severus," he gasped. "But next time, considering the circumstances, Apparating outside the front door and ringing the bell or knocking might be a bit more appropriate. You could easily have been Stunned."

"Or it appears I could have given Potter a heart attack at the thought that just anyone might make it past Dumbledore's wards and Apparate right into the front hallway," Snape said. "I _did_ think it a bit more appropriate to arrive directly into the house, considering my attire."

Harry took a few deep, calming breaths and got to his feet. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Professor Snape," he said, nodding at his Potions Master's comments but not rising to the bait. "Please come in." He gestured into the lounge.

No sooner had the three of them sat down when Bill Weasley Apparated right in front of them, looking extremely concerned.

Harry slapped his forehead, "I must have scared her half to death!"

Bill just nodded and pointed at the phone. Harry leapt to his feet and rushed to dial his friend. "Hi, it's me," he said. "Someone had Apparated into the hallway. It was Professor Snape—Uncle Moony had called him while you and I were talking and he came over so quickly that no one was expecting him just yet. I'll write you later. Gotta go!" A relieved Hermione said good-bye and both hung up, then Harry made his way back over to the sofa.

"Well, Potter?" Snape said.

"Well, sir, it's like this. I want to make sure my Aunt Petunia is really her, and that she's not acting under the Imperius Curse or anything. Her behaviour has just been way too weird lately.

Snape raised his eyebrows and looked over at Aunt Petunia.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to use Legilimency on her to discover the truth of the matter," Harry continued.

Aunt Petunia smiled and shook her head indulgently.

"See what I mean, Professor?" Harry said, jumping to his feet and starting to pace again.

"She seems quite nice to me. What's so weird about _that_, Potter?" Snape asked, looking confused. Lupin just looked amused.

"Let me put it to you this way, sir. This is almost like coming to school and _you_ suddenly smiling warmly at me and inviting me to tea in your office, then praising my classwork to the skies in class in front of Malfoy."

Snape cringed at the very idea.

"Exactly. _Weird_," said Harry.

"When you put it that way, Potter," Snape said. "Would you mind, Mrs. Dursley, if I performed a little magical test on you?"

"Not at all, Professor," she smiled. Harry shuddered.

Snape smirked at his least favourite student, then concentrated on Petunia Dursley. "_Legilimens_!" he shouted.

After a moment he turned to Harry. "Well, Potter, it's definitely her. She remembers finding you on the doorstep, practically shaving your head except for your fringe, an incident at the zoo with a boa constrictor, and lots of that fat boy in these pictures," he waved a hand at the photographs on top of the mantelpiece. "Did she really keep you in the cupboard under the stairs all those years?" Snape looked slightly ill.

"Yes, sir, until my Hogwarts letters came, quite specifically addressed, and they panicked and gave me Dudley's second bedroom," Harry said.

"I can find no evidence that she's under the control of any spell or potion, Potter. The emotions she's been experiencing since the Dementor almost Kissed your cousin last summer do seem consistent with true remorse and a change of attitude towards you," Snape concluded.

Harry shook himself and sighed. "Thank you, Professor Snape, for taking the trouble to come so far. This has really been freaking me out."

"I can imagine it has, Potter," Snape said gently, looking at him with something like pity. "Well, I'd best be going now. Good luck with your classes. I'll be seeing you in Potions in September." He Disapparated, leaving Harry staring in horror at the empty space he left behind.

Bill, Lupin, and Harry just stared, mouths agape. "C-could it be a magical virus of some sort?" Harry asked weakly. The other two just shook their heads.

Aunt Petunia chuckled softly. "I wonder if you will ever be able to forgive me, Harry. I don't wonder at your reaction, really. It must give you the creeps after so many years of abuse and neglect. In my case this has been coming on gradually for a year, but you've not been around to see it, so it must really…" A tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. "She _was_ my sister, after all. Even if I refused to understand her difference. And now you're practically the only family I have left, and your life's in such great danger! I don't want to lose you, too, Harry!" More tears escaped her control and she reached for a tissue.

Bill cleared his throat. "I'd better get back outside." He lifted his wand and Disapparated.

Harry excused himself to write a quick note to Hermione about what had just happened and to check on Dobby.

The next morning after breakfast, Harry, Dobby, and Lupin headed for Mrs. Figg's house to Floo up to Hogwarts. Dobby looked even worse than he had the day before, in spite of his enforced rest, and Harry really wanted to get him looked at by someone who knew what they were doing.

A cheerful Mrs. Figg showed them eagerly to the fireplace and invited them to have tea with her on their return, if Harry was feeling up to it after his afternoon lesson.

They thanked her and hurriedly stepped into the blazing fire one by one after tossing in a bit of Floo Powder and shouting, "The Great Hall, Hogwarts" as clearly as possible. Harry didn't want to be late for class on his first day of Potions with his Head of House. Lupin carried Harry's cauldron and Potions supplies, as he'd been voted least likely to land on his face. Dobby travelled by Floo Powder as well, under Harry's insistence; the humans were concerned he might splinch himself considering the state he was in.

Professor McGonagall was there waiting when Harry stumbled out of the fireplace. "Hello, Potter," she said. "Right on time."

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Harry coughed through the soot. "Is Madam Pomfrey around, by any chance?"

"Why, yes, Potter, she is. Why? Are you ill? Is Remus?"

"No, Professor," Harry caught a nearly-unconscious Dobby as he fell out of the fireplace. "It's Dobby," he said unnecessarily. He scooped the little house elf up into his arms. "I hope you don't mind starting a few minutes late, Professor. I'll even do extra homework if you'd like, but Dobby really needs attention."

Lupin stepped out of the fireplace at that moment, "I agree, Minerva. Dobby's not doing well at all."

"Yes, thank you, Remus, I can see that for myself. Well, Potter, you know your way to the Hospital Wing blindfolded by now. Poppy told me at breakfast she'd be doing an inventory before leaving on holiday," she said.

Harry ran off, a rather limp Dobby in his arms.

Lupin started after him, but Professor McGonagall held up a hand to stop him. "Let the boy have a few minutes on his own. He's being so closely watched he's probably afraid to even sneeze by now."

Lupin grinned. "All too true. And with his Aunt Petunia suddenly being nice to him and worrying about him, he's probably ready to crack under the pressure."

"Probably?" she scoffed. "I think perhaps he already has! Severus told us about his visit yesterday."

Lupin's grin widened. "Yeah, Harry's decided it must be some sort of magical virus going around. After Severus looked into Petunia's mind and saw a fraction of the abuse she and that gorilla of a husband of hers inflicted upon Harry as a small child, even _he_ started to soften toward the boy. This could be a very interesting year, to say the least."

Harry slammed into the Infirmary, out of breath. Madam Pomfrey came running from the storeroom at the noise. She took one look at his face and asked, "Now what's happened to you, Potter? I thought my Hospital Wing was to be quiet for two months of well-deserved peace."

Harry finally caught his breath well enough to gasp out, "It's not me, Madam Pomfrey. It's Dobby. He's—well, _look_ at him!" Harry held out his limp bundle and Madam Pomfrey waved him over to the nearest bed.

"Dobby, what in Merlin's name have you been up to?" she asked, tucking in the house elf.

Harry quickly outlined the history of the problem for her, including many comments about how it was all his fault, and Madam Pomfrey just stared for a moment—it was the longest speech she'd ever heard come out of Harry's mouth. He was usually so reticent about what was wrong. Then she shook her head as if to clear it. "Household magic doesn't drain them, Mr. Potter, but the level of spells he's been doing in your home for the past few days…"

"Can you give him anything?" Harry was so worried he could hardly stand it.

"Of course I can and will. Stay with him for a moment, please." She turned on her heel and went to the storeroom.

Harry sat on the edge of Dobby's bed and picked up the closest little hand. "You're going to be okay now, Dobby," he promised.

Dobby struggled to lift his head, but Harry gently pushed him back, so he settled for a weak smile. "Thank you, Harry Potter, sir. I hope you will forgive Dobby's weakness, sir. He…"

"Nonsense!" Harry snapped. "I won't hear another word about it, my friend. Your health is much too important to me."

Madam Pomfrey returned with a bottle of potion and a small goblet in her hands, a tender smile on her face. "Not many wizards would speak that way to a mere house elf," she said.

Harry's gaze hardened. "'Mere' is hardly a word I would use to describe someone as noble and powerful as Dobby," he snapped, eyes burning with the injustice of such a remark. Blinking furiously to contain the tears that threatened, he continued, "The things these 'mere' house elves can accomplish, even _without_ wands…"

"Don't get me wrong, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said as she measured out a small dose of potion. "I'm not most wizards."

Harry nodded, then helped hold Dobby's head up for Madam Pomfrey to administer the medicine. "Dobby, I'll come check on you after lunch. And if I hear you've so much as set a _toe_ out of this bed without express permission from myself or Madam Pomfrey, I don't think you want to know what I'll do to you!"

"What about me?" a deep voice asked. "Can _I_ give him permission to get up?"

"No!" Harry snapped. "_Especially_ not you! This whole thing was your idea and I refuse to allow you to endanger Dobby again like that for _my_ safety!"

"Some calculated risks must be taken in a war situation, Harry," the voice continued.

"Maybe so, Professor, but this isn't wizard chess. This is real life. And if the key to my future success is what you implied it to be, you'd better hope I not get to think of my loyal friends as mere pawns in the game of war."

"Touché, Harry. But it was for the best. Dobby is in the best possible hands now, and his temporary sacrifice allowed for two goals to be accomplished at once—you were protected as well as I would hope you would be, and the unfortunate side-effects I hadn't counted on helped you to master certain concepts I feared would take us weeks to get through."

"Hadn't counted on? You mean you risked Dobby without knowing the consequences?" Harry felt his face redden in anger.

"This has never been attempted before—it was by chance that Dobby was the house elf to be cleaning my fireplace when Minerva and I were discussing your situation. Once he realized it was _you_ at risk, he volunteered more information about house elf magical abilities than I think anyone has known in hundreds of years. In fact, I'm sure that's why they were denied wands—wizard fear and prejudice over non-humans having stronger magical abilities than they."

Harry felt somewhat mollified after hearing Professor Dumbledore voice Harry's own opinion of the matter. "But he didn't bother to tell you what it would cost him to do this special magic, I suppose," he said quietly, shaking his head at Dobby, who looked like he was trying to shrink out of sight.

"That he did not," Dumbledore said sternly.

Dobby's ears flattened even further at this.

"Very well, Dobby, then I'll most certainly trust the headmaster in this as well. But _no one_ will be letting you out of bed at least until after lunch when I come visit you. Right?" Harry kept his gaze locked with Dobby's, so he felt, rather than saw, the others' nods of confirmation. "Fine. If that's settled, I'd better get down to Potions. Professor McGonagall has been kept waiting long enough." He thanked Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore, then sprinted out the door.

Harry arrived, yet again breathless, to the Great Hall, where he found Lupin and Professor McGonagall waiting for him and chatting over a nice cup of hot tea. Before he could get out a word of thanks for her patience, Professor McGonagall waved her wand and a table suitable for potions work appeared. Then she waved it again and a blackboard appeared filled with Snape's handwriting. As Harry read it, he realized it was one of the many potions he'd managed to bungle during fifth year when he was so distracted by Umbridge and by visions of the Department of Mysteries. This time, however, he didn't hate his professor and the other distractions were no longer foremost in his mind, so in spite of his late start, he managed a perfect Draught of Peace. He measured some into a flask for grading and corked it so that Professor McGonagall could check it at her leisure (or have Professor Snape do so—Harry suspected the Potions Master would be the one to actually grade his work, for how else would Snape be satisfied enough with Harry's improvement to allow him into sixth year Potions?) and brought the sample to her chair. She smiled as he handed it to her.

"Looks like it's the right colour and consistency, Potter," she said crisply. "Now for homework, you're to rewrite that absolutely dismal moonstone essay you wrote back in September."

Harry grinned. "Sure thing, Professor. Erm—do you think Madam Pince might lend me a couple of books to take home with me so I can get it done for Thursday? I know I've information in my textbooks at home, but something tells me I need more than that to make up for the drivel I wrote last time."

"If you knew it was such 'drivel,' Potter, why on earth did you turn in such inferior work?" she asked.

"I'd been doing all those detentions with that Umbridge woman and had no time left for homework if I wanted any sleep at all—she had me there until midnight every night, so I just dashed it off to avoid detention with Professor Snape," he said.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows had shot up at Harry's disgusted look as he spat out Dolores Umbridge's name, but as he made sure to call Snape by his title and she felt pretty much the same about the former Hogwarts High Inquisitor, she said nothing of his disrespectful tone. "What on earth did she have you doing until midnight?"

Harry held out his right hand, the scars still clearly visible. "Lines," he said.

She sucked in a breath and Lupin jumped to his feet to look more closely.

"She had a special quill," Harry began, and told them just what it did. "Ask Lee Jordan—he got in trouble with her once, too."

As Harry finished, he could feel the anger crackling in the air. He spun around and found himself face-to-face with a Professor Dumbledore looking very much as he had when he arrived that night at the Department of Mysteries.

"I think," said Lupin quietly, "that it's a good thing Fawkes is all the way up in your office and that not even _you_ can Apparate in and out of Hogwarts."

"Yes, Remus," Dumbledore agreed. "It's probably a _very_ good thing. First the Dementors and then daily torture?" He looked sternly at Harry. "The next time anything that might even be _remotely_ similar to this type of attack on you is to be reported to me at once. _At once_, Harry."

Harry just nodded, eyes wide at this display of righteous anger in his usually oh-so-calm and practically omniscient headmaster and protector.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, causing Harry to jump in the stressful silence. "Lunch is served, gentlemen. Perhaps we should start eating before it gets cold?" She led the way to the table as Madam Pomfrey entered the Great Hall for lunch with them.

"Good afternoon, Poppy," said Lupin. "How's Dobby?"

"Better," she said, "but not doing as well as I'd like."

Harry straightened his shoulders and set to eating his lunch quickly so he'd have plenty of time to visit the Hospital Wing before his next class.

If this was 'better', Harry decided, he'd hate to see 'much worse.' Dobby looked _awful_. Harry sank to his knees beside his little friend's bed and clasped a tiny cold hand in his own. He felt the tears streaming down his face as he watched the small chest rise fitfully in a struggle to keep drawing breath. This couldn't possibly be happening. Not to Dobby. Not because of _him_.

A hand on his shoulder broke Harry's reverie some time later. He turned hollow eyes to the headmaster and nodded, getting slowly to his feet.

"There _is_ something you can do for him, Harry."

"What? Make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain or some other such nonsense?" Harry spat.

"Actually, I was thinking along a bit more practical lines. After our class session we'll give it a try."

"Do you really think he'll hold on that long, sir?" Harry gestured at the prone figure on the bed, a doubtful expression on his face.

"Good point, Harry. First things first."

"What did you have in mind, Professor?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not here, Harry. Let us go to the Potions dungeon where we are sure to have the tools and ingredients we require—along with Professor Snape's assistance." He gestured for Harry to precede him out the door of the Infirmary.

Dumbledore knocked on the door of the Potions Master's office, then opened it and stuck his head inside. "Severus? We are in need of your expertise—it's a bit of an emergency, I'm afraid."

"Of course, Headmaster. Come on in."

Dumbledore gestured Harry inside, then followed him in, closing the door behind them. "It's our little friend, Dobby, Severus," he explained. "We need to resort to more drastic measures to save his life. He's sacrificed too much of his own strength to be able to recover on his own. Things don't look good at all."

Snape's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he said. "That bad, sir?"

"I'm afraid so, Severus. I'd like to try a special potion, if you would be so kind as to help us with ingredients and …"

"I think I know what you have in mind, Headmaster. But who will we take the blood from? Dobby is a free elf, and although you're technically a sort of 'master' to him…"

"I'll give the blood, Professor Snape," Harry said, hope awakening in his heart.

A slight smile appeared on the Potion Master's face. "Yes, Potter, I think we do. If you are in agreement, Headmaster?"

"Absolute agreement, Severus. I'll leave you both to it, then, shall I?" and Dumbledore swept out of the dungeon without a look backward.

Harry chuckled to himself. "You have to admit he's a smooth one, sir."

Snape actually laughed along with his student. "That he is, Potter. That he is." He shook his head and began collecting ingredients from his private store.

"This potion is very delicate, Potter, so I'll need you to follow my directions precisely. There is absolutely no room for error in this—Dobby's very life is at stake, and so much as a drop wrongly measured will end it for him rather than save it. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor. Most definitely understood," Harry said nervously. "What should I do first?"

Snape gave him a measuring look. "Start slicing up the daisy roots, Potter, while I crush the scarab beetles."

Harry was surprised at how quickly the potion was simmering in Professor Snape's smallest cauldron, and especially at how not a negative word had been spoken between them in all that time.

"Now comes the hard part, Potter. Hold out your arm so I can make the cut and we can drain some of your blood into the concoction."

Harry swallowed convulsively—that was quite a wicked-looking dagger. But this was for Dobby and it was only a few drops after all, wasn't it? What were a few drops of blood to Dobby's life? He knew Muggles donated entire pints of blood without any adverse effects, so why couldn't he? He held his arm out over the bowl the Potions Master had set on the table between them, and braced himself for the sting of the knife cutting into his flesh.

It was quick and relatively painless, although the bowl filled alarmingly quickly. Professor Snape hurriedly covered the wound with a clean cloth and applied pressure to it to stop the bleeding once the bowl was filled to the correct measure. Harry wasn't sure, but that looked like way more than a few drops of his blood! He felt a bit woozy and thought he'd like to sit down before he fell over. Professor Snape seemed to sense his weakness and led him to the closest chair.

"Hold your hand over it like this, Potter, while I add the blood to the potion. We can't let even an extra second go by."

Harry nodded and pressed on the rapidly-reddening bandage, slumped in the chair his professor had provided for him.

When it was ready, Snape put out the fire and filled a flask with the life-giving potion, then helped Harry to his feet and half-carried him to the Hospital Wing.

"Merlin's Beard, Severus!" cried Madam Pomfrey. "He's white as a ghost! How much blood did you take from him?" She rushed to apply ointment to the still-seeping cut. It closed instantly.

"Merely the required pint, Poppy. But Potter's not exactly overweight, now is he? It seems to have taken too much out of him. Perhaps some chocolate?" Snape helped Harry into the chair at Dobby's bedside, then brushed past the matron to the storeroom, coming back shortly with a bar of Honeyduke's Best, which he unwrapped and fed to Harry, bit by bit.

Harry's head was spinning so much he could hardly open his mouth to accept the bite-sized pieces. But as he finished the bar, the room started to come back into focus. He sighed. "Thanks, Professor," Harry managed, then leaned forward onto the bed to grasp Dobby's hand and rest his head on the pillow next to his little friend. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape administered the potion to the rapidly-failing house elf.

Four hours later a recovered Harry sat in the Infirmary with a now-awake Dobby, who was thanking him profusely for his blood sacrifice.

"Stop it, Dobby," Harry insisted for probably the tenth time. "It was the least I could do after you practically killed yourself to help _me_. Don't you dare ever do that to me again!"

Dobby stopped thanking him aloud, but Harry laughed at the look in his eyes.

"Not even in your head, Dobby! I mean it! I'll not have you bowing and scraping to me over this! You are my _friend_, Dobby. You've helped me so very many times, and what else have I ever done for you?"

"What else has Harry Potter done for Dobby? Can Harry Potter possibly have forgotten the fact that he was the one who freed Dobby from his former master? Dobby could never thank Harry Potter enough for that, and now Harry Potter has given some of his own blood to strengthen the potion that revived Dobby from certain death. Surely Harry Potter is aware of the bond this creates between him and Dobby? We are now brothers in blood, Harry Potter. We are obligated to care for one another for the rest of our lives."

"What? Dobby, my intention wasn't to chain you to me, just to save your life. I don't want to force you into slavery again!" Harry was horrified. What had he done? And how had Dumbledore allowed it to happen?

"No, Harry Potter. Do not be alarmed! Dobby was perhaps clumsy in his explanation," Dobby hurried to remedy his mistake. "Dobby is not a slave. Dobby is now like a brother to Harry Potter, and Harry Potter is like a brother to Dobby. The potion you and Professor Snape made was the only thing that could have saved Dobby's life, and you chose to make it for Dobby out of friendship and loyalty. Dobby knows Harry Potter is a generous person who might have attempted to save any person in the same way, but in the case of a house elf, the magic is permanently binding. We are now family, Harry Potter."

"Then I guess you'll be coming back to Privet Drive with me after all. But as my guest and brother, Dobby, _not_ to ward my sleep." Harry chuckled, "I always wanted a brother, but I kind of thought he might be a _bit_ taller."

Dobby laughed along with him, then threw himself into Harry's arms in a furious hug.

"Let's go home, Dobby," Harry said.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long. I've had Writer's Block on this silly chapter for two years, if you can believe that. Anyhow, it's not been beta-ed or anything (just submitted it to my beta and am posting here simultaneously), so please bear with any errors. I hope you like it!_

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Well, the plot is, but the characters and world are JKR's, although Herbert is borderline..._

**Chapter 7: Building Brick Walls**

When Harry finally stumbled out of the fireplace into Mrs. Figg's cat-smelling living room, he stopped short at the sight of three hostile sets of eyes in three angry faces belonging to Arabella Figg, Petunia Dursley, and Hermione Granger. His lack of movement caused first Dobby, then Remus Lupin to stumble into his back upon arriving, and thus all three males ended up in an undignified heap on the floor.

Lupin was the first to find his feet. "Harry, didn't anyone ever teach you to move out of the way when you finish Flooing?" He was dusting himself off as he spoke, but froze mid-motion as he caught sight of the threesome arranged on the sofa. "Oh," he said simply, then sort of shook himself, and helped his two companions to their feet.

"Harry James Potter!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. "Do you have any idea how worried we all were?"

Harry just blinked at her and turned to consult Mrs. Figg's grandfather clock. His jaw dropped and he cut off Lupin's rejoinder by simply pointing at the clock face.

Lupin copied Harry's expression, then shook himself again and turned to the threesome on the sofa. "Ladies, I am truly sorry. I'm afraid your long wait was entirely my fault."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, but she waited for the explanation.

"I should have let you know of our delay via Floo, Arabella, so that you would be prepared to answer any inquiries. My only excuse is that I was nearly as caught up in the anxious waiting in the Hospital Wing as Harry himself was."

The three sets of eyes snapped to Dobby. "I'm glad to see you're feeling so much better, Dobby," Aunt Petunia's voice had softened. "You gave us quite a scare."

Dobby swallowed audibly. "Madam is very kind to think of Dobby. Dobby was a _bad_ elf to make Madam worry…"

Harry cut him off. "Dobby." He almost whispered, but the warning was clear.

Hermione's eyebrows rose even higher at Dobby being so easily quelled mid-apology. Harry just grinned at her.

"So, how was class with Dumbledore, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Class was canceled for today, actually, due to the extenuating circumstances, s Professor Dumbledore put it," Harry replied, looking fondly at Dobby.

"Yes, Harry ended up taking _two_ sessions of Double Potions today—one with Minerva and one with Severus," Lupin interjected, and of course the three women wouldn't rest until they'd heard the particulars.

It was ten o'clock at night before Harry and company sent Hermione home via the Floo Network, said good-bye to Mrs. Figg, and made their way companionably back to Number Four Privet Drive. When they all entered the front hallway, they stopped short at the sight of Uncle Vernon's beet impression. Harry could almost see steam coming from the man's ears as he prepared to explode in anger.

"One word, Vernon Dursley, and you'll be staying with Marge for a week," Petunia snapped. The color drained from her husband's face and he gaped at her in shock.

Harry felt his jaw doing the same fish-out-of-water impression and he snapped his mouth closed, hoping he hadn't looked quite as stupid as his uncle.

"Harry, Dobby, you've had a very long day and I imagine are still feeling a bit weak. Why don't you go on up to bed?" Aunt Petunia smiled at them.

Harry felt his eyes were fairly popping out of his face, but he managed to reply. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia, I think we will." He grabbed Dobby's hand and led his newly-made blood-brother up to bed.

Harry spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday on his moonstone essay and reading the rest of the little book on Occlumency so he could put some of the more advanced techniques into practice.

Thursday morning dawned clear and warm. Harry, Dobby, and Lupin made their way cheerfully down the walk to Mrs. Figg's house after a pleasant breakfast with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Uncle Vernon had taken to going in to work early the past few days, supposedly because of a presentation to a potential buyer that Friday, but Harry was sure it was really due to Aunt Petunia putting her husband into his place so very firmly in favor of defending her nephew.

Mrs. Figg again invited them to tea afterwards, and they accepted her kind invitation before stepping up to her fireplace to make use of her Floo connection.

To Harry's surprise, Professor Dumbledore was there to greet them rather than Professor McGonagall.

"Good morning, Harry," he said. "I trust you come well-rested?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and then handed him the book he'd finished reading the night before. "Thank you, Professor. I'm looking forward to trying some of what I've learned."

"Really? Then let us test it now," Dumbledore challenged, and then stared silently into Harry's eyes.

Harry managed to hold the Headmaster out for a while, but eventually grew tired and the old man was able to break through his barriers. The memory Harry most feared was at the surface of his thoughts in spite of himself, and so as Professor Trelawney's voice began to rasp out the prophecy, Harry clamped down as hard as he could, managing to cut it short, but falling to his knees in exhaustion.

"Excellent, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. "I can see you have worked very hard this week."

"Thank you, sir," Harry panted. "I've tried to apply everything I read in the book you lent me."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him. "Do you have the essay Professor McGonagall assigned you?"

Harry grinned. "It's a lot better than the last one, that's for sure." He waved the parchment at his professor.

"If I may—" Dumbledore waved his wand and the parchment flew out of Harry's hand and out the door of the Great Hall.

"Excuse me, sir, but where is Professor McGonagall?"

"There has been a slight change of plans, Harry. As you effectively had two double sessions of Potions on Monday, you'll not have that lesson today. We will, instead, be going into Hogsmeade. My brother needs some urgent assistance."

"Can we be of any help, sir?" Lupin asked.

"No, thank you, Remus. Minerva has tea for you in the Staff Room. And Dobby, you may accompany us, but you are not to interfere in any way with our undertaking. Is that clear?"

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Dobby will not interfere, as long as his Blood Brother is safe."

"Very good, Dobby. You may help keep him safe from harm as we work. Shall we go? There is much to be done today.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore continued as they walked out the castle doors together. "I believe you have met my brother, Aberforth, although I am certain you were never formally introduced."

"Your brother, sir? I really don't think—" Harry said.

"Oh, yes, you've met him. Only once, I believe, but you've met him."

Harry struggled to think of a time when he'd even ever _seen_ someone who might be the Headmaster's brother. They had arrived at the main gate before the image of a man cleaning drinking glasses with a filthy rag flashed through his mind. He rejected the idea at once, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, surely not," he muttered.

"Trust your instincts, Harry. What do they tell you?"

"Ah, sir, but there's just no way. I mean, you're…and he's…"

"Precisely. That's why it's so much more convenient at times for _him_ to collect information than for me to do it myself. I do rather tend to stand out a bit, do I notl?"

Harry laughed. "That you do, sir. Even more than I do."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled along with Harry and they continued on in companionable silence until they reached the Hog's Head pub.

Once there, Dumbledore knocked three times on the doorframe, then led Harry around to the back of the building to a stone enclosure. As they got closer, Harry realized that an entire wall had somehow been destroyed.

"What a mess," he commented.

"Yes, quite," Professor Dumbledore said. "And that's precisely the problem my brother needs help with."

"Why? Can't he just use _Reparo_?"

"Unfortunately no, Mr. Potter," came a voice from behind him. Harry jumped and spun around, his wand at the ready.

The same old man he'd bought butterbeer from on the day they decided to start up Dumbledore's Army stood before him, looking as grimy as he had that day. He smiled at Harry. "I'd better remove the glamour before we get any closer to Herbert." He waved his wand and his features became more distinct. Harry gasped. This man wasn't just the Headmaster's brother. They were identical twins!

Aberforth chuckled at Harry's slack-jawed expression, and now two sets of blue eyes twinkled at him as he stared from one to the other.

Harry shook his head to clear the confusion from his mind.

"Okay, so why can't we use magic around this Herbert?"

"Do you remember, Harry, that I mentioned my brother to you long ago?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir. You said something about an unfortunate incident with a goat, I believe. But I got the impression that the 'incident' had occurred many years ago."

"Precisely, my boy. It happened during all that unpleasantness with Grindelwald, in fact," Aberforth said. "It left me almost completely drained of my magical reserves. Took me a fuul decade to recover and left my reputation in the magical community hopelessly compromised. It seems my detractors took advantage of my illness to make some rather disgusting insinuations about my personal habits that not even Albus here could squelch."

"Yes, sir, I think I know what you mean," Harry said, recalling some of the wilder versions he'd heard about how the headmaster's brother had fallen from grace.

"Anyhow, Herbert was the result of a terrible arithmantic miscalculation on my part. I had been dueling with Maximus Malfoy at the time, and the spell I'd decided to test on Grindelwald's right-hand man bounced off his shield and onto a goat that had been grazing nearby."

"The result was pretty gruesome," the headmaster interjected. "Poor Herbert's circuits were scrambled, as it were, and he cannot tolerate magic being used nearby."

"That's right," said Aberforth. "If he so much as _smells_ even the glamour magic I use, his magic will attack me and I'll be drained of my powers for a good week, once I finally regain consciousness."

"Which takes how long, sir?"

"Two to three days for minor magical use," Aberforth said. "But once a Death Eater tried to stun me as I was mucking out Herbert's stall. The results were far from pretty, to say the least."

"What happened?"

"He took a month to awaken and lived out the rest of his life in Azkaban in a rather more disoriented state than most inmates."

"The rest of his life, sir? For a stunner?"

"No, Harry," said his professor. "For being a Death Eater, of course. That, and the fact that he only survived about six months after he awoke from his coma."

Harry shook his head again and resolved to be very careful around this goat. As they got closer to the paddock, he suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Aberforth.

"What about more passive magic, sir?"

"What do you mean, my boy?"

"My scar, sir. What about my link to Voldemort?"

"Mental shields don't set him off because they don't really depend on magic, but rather on mental strength," Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry started walking once more. He was quiet until he saw the damage the paddock wall had suffered. "What happened here?" he asked, shocked. There were bricks strewn all over the outside of the wall, many were pulverized to dust.

"Any idea, Harry?" Aberforth asked.

"Some poor sap tried to do magic out here, didn't they, sir?"

"Precisely, my boy. Someone tried to prank poor Herbert and their trick literally blew up in their faces."

"Who was it this time, sir?"

"Well, Harry, it seems that two of your classmates decided to follow in young mister Malfoy's footsteps in trying to convince their fathers to allow them to join the club a bit early," said Professor Dumbledore.

"Let me guess. Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Right in one, my boy," chuckled Aberforth. "They're in St. Mungo's as we speak. And still out cold."

Harry snorted. "So, where do we start?"

Aberforth gestured to the right of the gaping hole in the wall. "There's the mortar and a good pile of new bricks. Be my guest, young Harry."

Harry shrugged and set to work pulling the weeds closest to the wall and piling them up just inside and to the left of the aperture for the ancient goat to munch on later. Then he began to work steadily, placing bricks and slapping on mortar before placing more bricks. All the while, the Dumbledore twins regaled him with tales of their youth. It seemed they could have given the Mauraders and the Weasley twins a real run for their money in the pranks department. They had Harry laughing so hard his ribs hurt as they described their youthful antics.

Almost before he knew it, the elderly twins called a halt to the work and they all went to find a large shade tree a safe enough distance from Herbert to allow Dobby to use magic to serve them an enormous picnic lunch.

After they had eaten, the headmaster stood and brushed off his hands. "I will leave you now. Please continue your task, Harry. It is imperative that the wall be repaired today. I'll expect you at the castle by half past three."

Harry got to his feet with a nod and went straight back to building his wall. But this time Aberforth set to work mucking out Herbert's stall and there were no more stories.

The minutes ticked by slowly and the only sounds Harry heard were the slap of mortar and brick, the scraping of the shovel, and the buzzing of the flies around the pellets and straw Aberforth was piling up in the compost bin. After what felt like hours, Harry reached for another brick only to find that he'd used them all up. He had finally finished his task.

He looked at the now-repaired wall and could see no difference between what he had done before their picnic and what he had done afterwards. But whereas he had scarcely noticed how hard he was working in the morning, he could feel that in the afternoon he'd scraped up his hands quite a bit and that his back, arms, and shoulders were tired and sore. He could also see that in the morning he'd built nearly twice as much wall in the same amount of time that he'd had to work in the afternoon.

"Excellent work, Mr. Potter," Aberforth said, startling him. "I can scarcely see the difference between the two sections. Herbert will sleep safely enclosed tonight."

"Thank you, sir."

"Get on back up to the castle, now, my boy. My brother is waiting for you." He handed Harry a frosty bottle of butterbeer and smiled his thanks as Harry walked over to the tree they'd lunched under to wake Dobby.

"Come on, little brother," he said. "Time to go."

Dobby jumped to his feet and skipped along happily as he and Harry made their way back to the castle.

Copyright 2006


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: We all know that these characters are the property of JKRowling. Does anyone really doubt that we're just playing with other people's creations on this site?_

Chapter 8: Summer Begins

Harry trudged up the path next to his bouncing Blood Brother. He was tired and dusty, but felt a sense of accomplishment after so much physical labor.

"I wonder what the point of all that was, Dobby," he remarked. "It's so late now that I won't have time for my normal lessons now. What am I going to do tonight?"

Dobby just looked up at him and grinned.

"What?" Harry demanded. "Do you know something I don't?"

"Perhaps, Harry Potter. But it is not Dobby's place to say."

They continued on in silence, and Dobby popped off to the kitchens to visit his friends as soon as they reached the doors to the Great Hall.

Harry continued through the open doors to the table set up in the center of the room.

"Tired, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him as he sank into the chair across from his headmaster.

"A bit, sir."

"Well, let us see what you learned today, shall we?"

"I learned how to build a goat enclosure, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Is that all?" he asked softly. "_Legilimens_."

Harry felt the light intrusion into his mind as Professor Dumbledore looked through his memories of that night in the Department of Mysteries. He saw Sirius' shocked look as he fell backwards through the Veil.

"NO!" Harry yelled, pushing with all his might at the presence. "Anything but that!"

"I do apologize, my dear boy. I was not searching for any specific memory."

Harry opened his eyes to find his hands were braced against the table and his chair had been knocked backwards as he stood to force his professor out of his mind. He took a few deep breaths to settle himself as he'd learned from his readings, then shakily righted his chair and took a seat once more.

"Now this time, Harry, when you feel the intrusion in your mind, I want you to concentrate on the work you did today for my brother."

At Harry's nod, the headmaster whispered the spell once more, and Harry could see flashes of his childhood—running from Dudley's gang and turning his teacher's wig blue, to be precise. Harry concentrated on the work he'd done behind the Hog's Head, placing brick upon brick and recreating the entire wall in his mind.

Suddenly he realized that Professor Dumbledore was no longer in his mind and looked up in surprise.

"Yes, Harry, you pushed me out with your wall. Now try again. This time don't let me in at all."

Harry thought of his wall as Professor Dumbledore began to say the word. He could feel a sort of tapping at the wall, but it held firm.

"Excellent, my dear boy!" Dumbledore flicked his wand and a Patronus shot out of the end and soared out the door of the Great Hall.

A few moments later Professor Snape strode into the Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Yes, Headmaster? How can I be of service?"

"Ah, Severus. Thank you for coming so promptly. I wish for you to test Harry's Occlumency shields, if you will."

"Of course, sir. _Legilimens!_"

The interchange was so brief that Professor Snape caught Harry unprepared and began sifting through his memories of the day Harry and Dobby became blood brothers. Before he had seen more than a limp Dobby being taken up to the Hospital Wing, Harry slammed his brick wall into place.

He heard a grunt and snapped his eyes open to see Professor Snape climbing to his feet with a grimace of pain.

"Very good, Potter," he said. "I congratulate you. I doubt that even the Dark Lord himself would be able to break into your mind easily now."

"Well, Harry, it appears as though your summer studies, apart from your regular summer homework, of course, are now at an end," Professor Dumbledore announced.

"What? What do you mean? Why?"

"Well, Potter, the potions you brewed on Monday for Professor McGonagall, along with your rewritten moonstone essay, were quite satisfactory. And, although it pains me to admit it, without your assistance on Monday, not even _I_ could have brewed such a tricky potion in time to have saved Dobby's life. I am satisfied that you are, in fact, capable of studying NEWT-level Potions."

"And your Occlumency shields are now strong enough to protect you from dreams, visions, or moods influenced by Voldemort's use of your link," said Professor Dumbledore. "They should even theoretically block the blinding pain you experience every time he is nearby. You will hopefully still be warned of his presence, but will no longer be debilitated by it."

The whole world began to look brighter to Harry at that. He would still probably have to face that monster again, but at least now he wouldn't be blinded by the pain in his head. He might have a fighting chance after all.

It was time to collect his blood brother and go back to Privet Drive. He had a telephone call to make.

(The End?)

A/N: Sorry this took so long to finish off. I guess I felt kind of silly after having taken so very long to write a mere 8 chapters (especially now that canon has made them obsolete) even bothering to post, but I hate leaving unfinished business. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Copyright 2004


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